Birth of a Legend
by Parcasious
Summary: He could only blame himself for the predicament he was in, stuck in another world. But then again, Rin did call him an idiot.
1. Chapter 1

Pain is not a feeling that would normally be associated with victory, but it so happened to be for one Shirou Emiya as his victory was short lived. He floated aimlessly in a void of darkness, feeling as his body began eroding away. _'How did it come to this?"_ He thought.

The Holy Grail had been destroyed and Saber had faded away along with it. Though sad that Saber was gone, he could do nothing to change it. After a moment or two, Rin made her way towards him carrying an unconcious Shinji.

Perhaps it was then, when he had let his guard down that he was enveloped by a dark rift that had opened up beside him; he couldn't clearly remember, the pain flowing through his body too much to bare.

He stared forward at the light that had suddenly appeared at the far expanses of the void; at the light that was sure to be better than the dark. He moved towards it, but his body's condition severely hindered him and forced him to a halt. The movement however, had been enough to set him drifting towards it.

He relaxed as he drew nearer to the light, its rays soothing his pain.

The light embraced him, wrapping its ribbon like rays around him and pulled him out of the void.

He felt the cold ground against his back as he darted his eyes around. He was in an illuminated cave, the light originating from a man in armor reminiscent of Sabers. (Fate Prototype version.)

The man's face however, was hidden from view as he had his back turned to him.

He attempted to sit up, but found that his body would no longer move due to his extensive injuries.

"It hath been centuries since I last laid eyes on man, but to think it would be a man as heavily curs'd as thou." The man said as the man turned to face him.

His eyes widened as Sabers face stared at him.

"S-Saber?" He said on reflex.

"Mine name is Arthur Pendragon. What is thy name, human?"

Taking a second to collect himself, he stared Arthur in the eyes.

"...Shirou...Emiya." He groaned out.

"Thy name suites thee well."

Arthur stood up and approached him, before astonishment alighted his face.

"Thou possesses mine sheath."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Arthur's eyes glowed white before reverting back to the regular teal. He watched as a thoughtful look appeared on Arthur's face before it suddenly became serious.

"Thou hast liv'd a hard life and mine other self respects thou greatly." Arthur kneel'd next to him. "Thou wast born from fire and made durable through thyn ideals." He watched as an orb of golden light formed on Arthur's hand. "And thy soul is that of true temper'd steel; unbending and unyielding to any and all adversaries."

He stared as the orb in Arthur's hand shot up into the air and burst; the energy within the orb shooting out and surrounding them in a thin transparent veil. Images of battles long lost through time flashed across the veils surface as Arthur stood up on his feet.

"Thy past and ideals makes thou worthy of mine respect and as such, I offer thou a proposition."

He watched as Arthur's figure began radiating energy, the air around them twisting into a frenzy.

"Shirou Emiya. Thy body is broken and heavily taint'd by a curse, but it's possible f'r me to save thee. Doth thou wish to be sav'd regardless of the consequences?"

He thought about his life, a single life that had been saved where others had died, and the answer naturally came to him.

"Yes."

"Very well."

Arthur's form wavered before the energy bursting out from him in waves dyed the area in fluorescent gold.

He shut his eyes to keep from blinding himself and by the time he opened them again he realized that he was now standing alone and uninjured. He looked over himself and felt oddly powerful as he felt an abundant amount of power circulating within him; leagues above what he was used to. He looked around, but could not find Arthur anywhere.

"Arthur?" He called out.

**"Yes?"**

He spun around towards the direction in which he thought he heard the voice, but there was nothing there.

"Where are you?" He finnaly asked.

There was a pause before Arthur spoke.

**"Within thou."**

"What do you mean." He asked as he scanned his body for any abnormalities.

**"Thy body was curs'd beyond saving. Thus I hast fus'd our souls together, leaving thy original body behind.**" Arthur's voice sounded remorseful. **"'Twas the only way."**

"So you mean we're sharing this body?"

**"More or less, but it would seem that thou art the one in control."**

"How is such a thing possible?"

**"Because thy soul is of steel."**

"Steel?"

**"A conversation f'r another time. What is important howev'r is that thou shouldst now that I am a god of steel. "**

His eyes widened as his thoughts ran rampant within his mind. "If what Arthur said is true, then that would mean-"

**"-That through me, thou can be considered a god."** Arthur said.

"You can read my mind?" He asked curiously.

**"Nay, but I couldst guess about what thou wast thinking. For now, let us leave this cave."**

"Fine." He said as began to search for a way out.

* * *

Well. This idea is just one that wouldn't leave my mind so I wrote it out.


	2. A Heroic God?

_Very little information is known about the whereabouts, or even the true nature of the Heretic God that has been speculated to have appeared from around two miles south of the Mátra mountain range in northern Hungary._

_Though it is said that in a Heretic God's wake, only disaster and suffering would lay ahead, this is most certainly not the case in this instance; no such notifications of damaged property, or casualties for that matter have been reported. Moreover, it seems as if this god in particular brings about good fortune to those in which it stumbles upon; based on the words of the poor that said Heretic God had assisted and the sick in which it healed._

_In peculiar, was the testimony of a boy no older than five. Acquaintances of the boy before his miraculous healing, had stated that his condition was far from the best. Simple itches that soon manifested into open sores that began to fester with disease. A disease that the poor knew as Ördög Pestis, Devil's Plague. Far from the ominosity of the name, the disease was really Erysipelas that had taken root from the sores created through over scratching. Erysipelas is a bacterial infection in the upper layer of your skin that if left untreated for too long can be fatal. And a fatality it would have been if not for the Heratic God that had visited._

_Locals who had witnessed the event described it as the return of savior, of a new saint that would guide them to the righteous path. The boy however, when questioned, chose a different term in which to call the Heretic God. It was not a saint. Nor was it a savior. But rather, a hero._

_A Heroic God? The notion of such a thing had completely obliterated what little preconceptions that had been formed about the identity of this mysterious Heretic God. Therefore it was best that more evidence be obtained, studied, and be dealt with accordingly._

_It was intriguing in a sense. Why would a Heretic God go out of his way to provide help to those in need? That was the true question, and it may perhaps be the answer to said Heretic God's true identity._

_All that is known as of recent is that the Heretic God was last seen roaming near the area governed by Marquis Voban, the oldest Campione..._

**-Paolo Blandeli of the magic society "Copper-Black Cross."**

* * *

"Bless your soul." A poor woman cried out as she held the package of food he had gathered for her tightly to her chest while she cried out tears of gratitude. Inside the package was an assortment of fresh fruit and vegetables along with many items of non perishable food. "Please, take this." The woman held out a frail hand containing what few coins she had to offer; which wasn't much. The amount however, would be enough to purchase one meal.

A strong, broad hand gently placed itself over the woman's outstretched one and gently closed it back into a fist; the warmth of the hand sending a pleasant soothing feeling through the woman's body that eased her worries.

"Thank you, but you need it more than I." Shirou said as he let go of the woman's hand and walked away; leaving the woman and her family beside her speechless. Speechless as they were, they had still attempted to reach out to him, to draw upon the warmth that he unknowingly emanated. Yet he had already left on reinforced legs; disappearing into the distant wilderness as if he was never there and not hearing the final opinions of the family he had just left.

**"Thou art honorable."** A voice said from within his mind. A mind that was no longer simply occupied by his thoughts alone, but rather housed the thoughts of another as well; however separate these thoughts may be in comparison to each other. It was like halving two heads in one, or souls in this particular case that could communicate to one another, yet did not have the ability to pry into one another's thoughts. In other words, a very special kind of situation.

_"It's what anyone else would have done."_ He said mentally through the connection that had been established by Arthur a day after they had exited the cave; talking to the air would have become a problem.

**"Nay. Any lesser man or woman would not have gone out of their way to aid a starving family."**

_"Then the world is full of greater men and woman, Arthur."_

**"Hahahahah."** Arthur laughed amusedly; his laughs coming out in small guffaws. **"Optimism can only lead one so far, but I like it."**

Shirou began walking towards Miskolc, the nearest city that he hoped would have an air port to travel back to Japan from the forest he was in; he had gotten directions from the people who he had helped out, yet he did not stay very long after; unintentionally and unawarely leaving behind a deep impression into the hearts of those he had saved.

As Shirou continued on through the woods that he was currently in, a feeling of sudden trepidation suddenly over came him; stopping him in his tracks. Trepidation however, was soon replaced by a different more primal feeling, fight or flight. He saw rather than felt his body begin tensing up as divine energy began leaking into the air from it. Illuminating the scenery around him in radiant gold and acting as a beacon that drew the attention of nearby animals towards him, but at the same time compelled them to flee.

It has always been said that animals knew the signs of coming danger, almost as if it was a sixth sense. Whether it was a bird that would hunker down before a big storm, or a shark that would flee into deeper water just before a large hurricane hit, they all seem to just simply know. And it was that knowing that drove them to flee and not look back as the glow from Shirou's body began diminishing into a light sheen that coated his body; acting like a defensive membrane.

Within Shirou's soul, Arthur sat within the Unlimited Blade Works, his back against the sword most familiar to him. Familiar in the sense that it was the sword in which he wielded, yet at the same time was not. Just as the sheath that he had initially assumed was his, was simply not. The sheath, Avalon, was in fact an actual physical item, a real Avalon; different from the one he possessed as an authority that was based on his legend. Yet, could he not say the same for the vast armory he found himself within? No he could not. Avalon, his sheath was the only real physical item in this world within Shirou's soul; the rest were simply manifestations of said soul. A soul in which he now inhibits. Though through some act of sorcery, or magic in this case, Shirou Emiya can physically form any of these weapons in this vast armory into physical form; including Avalon which in most cases was a "Projected" copy, based on what Shirou had said. Then again, it wasn't that hard to believe since he had glimpsed the memories of said Shirou Emiya.

Suddenly and instinctively, Arthur stood up, his eyes suddenly narrowed and his godly power bursting forth in waves which transferred over to Shirou. However, he reeled in his energy as he realized that it would only draw the approaching danger towards him and Shirou's exact location.

**"Shirou, I sense the presence of a Campione, a god's natural enemy."**

_"Campione?"_ Shirou thought confusedly.

**"A Campione – a Godslayer – is a supreme ruler."**

Images of past Campiones destroying other Heretic God's filtered through Arthur's mind; making him remember what it was he fought for in the olden days before his mind began succumbing to the pleasant whispers of rebellion. A rebellion towards his own myth, his legend. In the end it would have drove him to become a malevolent god that would harm the masses, a Heretic God. His honor, his chivalry, and his right of kingship would not allow such a travesty; and so he locked himself away.

**"Since he can kill a celestial being, he can therefore call on the sacrosanct, divine powers wielded by the gods."**

Battles against past Campiones Arthur fought against came to the forefront of his mind. Battles in which Campiones demonstrated the power usurped by the gods they had slain; flaunting it carelessly for all to witness, and for all to know. Causing severe damage to the environment, wild life, and people around the general vicinity.

**"A Campione – a Godslayer – is a lord. Since the power to kill a deity is in his hands, he therefore looms over all mortals on Earth."**

Arthur remembered a Campione that built an empire through fear, charisma, strength, and fortitude. An empire that erected many monuments and feats of architecture to the best of its time. An empire that was called Rome. Its borders were vast. Its streets full of the bustling of the common wealth that hailed the Campione's name. All had flocked to Rome to witness the best luxuries of the time period. Whether it was the aristocratic tapestries and buildings, or to experience the commodities it offered. The Campione ruled them all.

**"A Campione – a Godslayer – is a devil. Since of all mortals who live in the world, none can assume a power to match his."**

Finally, Arthur remembered the futility of man as they amassed an army to oppose a Campione's tyrannical rule. Legions of men and women had taken up arms. Farmers, knights, house wives...and even children no older than seven. Legions of voices, multitudes of dreams for better days, yet all were crushed by the sheer might of the Campione and his Authorities. The sky had dimmed that day as down on the ground, were the remains of dreams, grinding footsteps of the few that had survived, and the souls chagrin at the bitterness of the result. Man would forever remember the fruitlessness of the rebellion that had occurred that day; to never oppose the might of Campiones.

_"That's...unreal."_ Shirou thought in disbelief, but then again, hadn't he witnessed or experienced first hand what other's would consider unreal?

**"'Tis very real Shirou, but that's not what's important right now."** Shirou felt Arthur gathering energy within him. **"We must escape, thou art not yet ready to face a Campione. Not without mine powers, not without mine Authorities, and most certainly, not without the proper experience."**

Shirou nodded his head to convey that he was listening as he thought about what he would do if he encountered a Campione. Would he fight with the armory he had acquired from Gilgamesh and Archer using Arthur's power to fuel his projections? Or would he rely on the power that Arthur spoke of. Either way, he would be forced to fight.

As Shirou continued to listen, Arthur willed the power he had been releasing and gathered it in his palm before shattering it and sending the power through Shirou's body.

**"Let mine words of power flow through thee Shirou, and thou shall witness the divinity of a god."**

_"Understood."_ Shirou replied as words in which he had never known flashed through his mind; compelling him to actualize them, to give them release. And so he did, placing his trust in the god that saved him.

"Oh noble stallion clad in steal and decor that reflects thy elegance and ranking; who's speed was unmatched by any other stallion regardless of the burden that thou bared on our travels. I beseech thee! Come and aid thy master once more!"

The scenery around Shirou began distorting as a violent wind blew dust and loose gravel into a swirl in the air. Subsequently, a shock wave of divine power burst forth, rocking the trees and shrubberies violently around them. Tree's were uprooted, dirt flung in all directions, leaving behind a small clearing where he stood. From the rift that formed from the distortion of the space around him, stepped out a stallion who's body emanated an ethereal white hue. Who's hooves impacted heavily against the ground, but left no traces of any impressions even as the steel armor equipped over it added a great deal of weight to the stallion's already bulky mass. Steal armor that had elegant tapestries that were shades of royal purple, oranges, and deep blues. Most noticeable however, was the flag of a dragon in which it flew. The stallion's name is Hengroen, a mount of Arthur.

**"It hath been a while old friend."** Arthur said from within Shirou as Hengroen regarded them before adjusting itself so that Shirou may climb onto it.

A great howl is heard in the distance as the moon over head sends its rays to illuminate the surrounding scenery. Giving light to the disturbed area around Shirou that was caused by summoning Hengroen.

**"Make haste Shirou! The enemy approaches!"**

"Got it." Shirou mounted Hengroen taking a moment to properly position himself on the saddle on Hengroen's back; or at least position himself to what felt comfortable to him.

Hengroen neighed as it stood to its full height before speeding off through the wilderness at such a speed that the scenery became but a blur to mortal eyes. Yet this was not so for Shirou who simply saw things as they were, regardless of the speed in which Hengroen ran. For his eyes were no longer simply that of a mortals, but of a god. A god who owns Hengroen. As such, it would not due for the very rider to not be able to see his surroundings and guide Hengroen to the proper destination.

The sounds of foot steps and even panting invade Shirou's ears; causing him to tense his body in preparation for anything. He did not expect that anything however, to be in the form of several pack wolves hot on his heels. Their jaws unhinged, saliva dripping down to the earth, and eyes narrowed in insatiable hunger. A hunger he knew he did not wish to satiate.

Oddly, the wolves were able to keep up or at least continue to tail Hengroen even if he moved at such an incredibly fast speed.

**"Divine Beasts"** Arthur said. **"Spirits in the form of animals that serve a god or goddess, but in this case, a Campione."**

_"What should we do?"_

**"Destroying them would be for the best, but distracting them would suffice. For as long as they continue to chase us, the Campione will never stop his pursuit; being as they often act as messengers."**

Shirou nodded his head before he began to focus within himself to bring about his magic, his magecraft. An imaginary gun cocked itself within his mind, loading itself to be prepared for use. His circuits thrummed with prana and the divinity of a god; the energy so great that it threatened to burst out from the seems,

"Trace On."

From within the Unlimited Blade Works, Arthur watched curiously as weapons that he had gotten accustomed to seeing, suddenly vanished into particles that glittered before completely fading. Fading, but at the same time reforming in the material realm, the outside world; suspended within the air. Oddly enough however, they instantly reformed within the Unlimited Blade Works even as copies continued to exist in the mortal realm. Copies that he knew were called projections from the memories he had glimpsed from Shirou. He internally marveled at the sight of such _"steel"_. A steel that he believed can one day rival the mysterious god said to be of the strongest steel. For that god's steel though unbelievably strong, when compared to an entire world of steel filled with various weapons of various legends and myths, was simply one against an army. Of course he was not implying that Shirou was at the level of said god that manifests at the World's End, no; he was not at that level yet. But surely one day he will. And he would be the first to witness it.

Shirou locked eyes with the wolf at the front of the pack chasing after him as he estimated that he had traced the necessary amount of weaponry into the air. The air around him had become littered with countless weapons of all sorts. From the smallest daggers, to spears, to blades, all were accounted for. All were imbued with the divinity of a god of steel, escalating their overall effectiveness as nameless weaponry, into divine weaponry that would surely be able to slay divine beasts.

He willed them to strike. To pulverize the divine wolves hot on his tail. As to obey his will, the weaponry he had traced above him turned to face the wolves and shot off in a torrent of steel. A torrent that moved at a faster rate then what the wolves could dodge. Against such steel moving at such speed, the divine wolves could only howl in anguish as blades, daggers, and spears pierced and ripped through their body's; breaking bones, puncturing flesh, and eviscerating them by cutting through their soft under bellies. Yet not all were killed. Through some form of luck, or self preservation skills found in all living beings, they had used their surroundings to their advantage. Rapidly moving to the left or right, behind trees or large boulders that slowed the speed of the coming projectiles; some even using the bodies of those that had already died and were beginning to fade away.

As a result of the divine wolves actions however, precious time had been wasted. Time that would cost them their pray as Shirou, on Hengroen, shot off into the distance and in a superior burst of speed, disappeared from sight through a portal that had appeared from thin air; just barely escaping the edge of a large elongated sword that struck at the area Shirou would have been in the next millisecond.

* * *

The lead wolf that had been guiding the pack of wolves, snarled in frustration as a man materialized beside said wolf. His face too was one of distaste as he knew that he had let escape a god that would have provided him an exhilarating battle; if the sheer influx of divine power he had felt was accurate.

The bottom of the black trench coat the man wore fluttered to the sway of the wind that began to pick up from the anger that he was releasing; his power over the domain of the elements of the sky having much to do with it. Said sky darkened as storm clouds formed over head; ominous streaks of lightning pulsing through them. The man, or better known as the count, Marquis Voban the oldest Campione, was not amused. Not in the slightest.

"My my, it seems I missed the party old man." A young man with blond hair said as he strode in from the side behind a bundle of trees holding a sword loosely over his right shoulder. The man had sunglasses on his head and wore an open blue polo shirt accompanied with a grey pair of pants held up by a brown leather belt. Around his neck was a gold circular pendant. This man's name is Salvatore Doni, the sixth Campione.

"Ah, I had heard there was now a sixth Campione. I presume that's you?" Voban said as he looked down upon Doni.

"Yup. That's me, Salvator Doni." Doni said without a care before his eyes narrowed in challenge. "And you. You would steal a god from me in my vicinity; this fair area of Italy in which I now govern."

"A god that was fleeing from my domain of Hungary, yes."

"That doesn't change the fact that it was in my area of governing." Doni said as he pouted, relaxing himself in Voban presence; regardless of the building energy around him because so to was he building up his own energy.

Voban narrowed his eyes that hid the building anger within him. Anger at the audacity of Salvatore Doni who would dare to attempt to provoke him. To even insinuate challenging him. To him, Salvator Doni, was but a child taking his first few steps as a king. A child who was green behind the ears and does not yet know of the natural order. A child who would need to know its place. He had built up his power as he was chasing the Heretic God, but now it would seem that power would have to be directed elsewhere. His eyes glowed green as the storm clouds over head increased in ferocity and his wolves bared their fangs at Doni. Behind him, a legion of undead rose from the ground; skeletal armored hands breaking through the grounds surface and forcing their way out. Along with them came threatening skull visages, their sockets for eyes pitch black, their noses non-existent.

In response, Salvatore Doni simply raised his sword and magical power; opting to solve his problems like he always has, through his blade.

"There is a certain pecking order that is not stated but simply known boy, and you are currently at the very bottom." Voban's undead army walked up to stand guard in front of him, waiting for the order to move out. "Yet I as a senior king, will pardon this transgression if you are able to entertain me till sunrise."

Doni smiled in anticipation of a challenge; one where his life could potentially be at stake.

"Entertain me, boy!" Voban released the hold he had on his authorities and let them loose on Doni.

It would be another seven hours until sunrise. Seven hours of constant collateral damage and violent environmental shifts. This was a fight between beings that had ascended past the mortal realm. Of beings so rare that only six currently exist in the world. This was a battle between kings. This was a battle between lords. But most of all, this was a battle between Campiones, godslayer.

* * *

_"Where are we Arthur?"_ Shirou asked as he looked around the area he was currently in; a mountain in some unknown location. After jumping through the portal that Arthur had created to escape their pursuers, he had ended up here; deep in the mountains filled with lush greenery and the earthen smell of soil and trees. Beside him was a small stream that lead up to a small house further up its length.

**"A place I hath not been in centuries. A place called the Netherworld, the boundary of life and immortality."** Arthur said as Shirou decided to venture towards the only house he could see.

_"The Netherworld?"_

**"A place where gods who have had enough of the constant fighting in the mortal realm take shelter in."**

_"A place of peace then."_

**"It can be thought of as such. Speaking of which, I don't think we are at the intended plane of the Netherworld that I was hoping for, but I don't have enough energy to transport us elsewhere so this will suffice."** Arthur said from within Shirou's mind before he paused for a moment before proceeding. **"We shall train in this domain for a couple of years to better equip thou for battles against Campiones or even fellow gods."**

_"Am I that helpless in battle?"_

**"It's not that thou art helpless. It's simply because thou have yet to earn the proper experience to combat against such foes who can cause catastrophes on a whim. Secondly, thou doesn't have full control of mine Authorities, a god's power."**

_"Point taken."_

**"Since we didn't arrive at the intended area, we must gain permission from the god who governs this domain to reside here for the time being. I believe that said god is within this house you are at."**

Shirou paused for a moment as he was about to knock on the house's door before knocking anyway when he realized that he would have to do so anyway at some point.

"Enter." An old gruff voice said.

Hesitating for but a moment, Shirou pushed the door in and entered. Inside sat a man tending to a pot of some kind while leisurely pouring himself a saucer of sake. The man had a mane of black hair along with a long scruffy beard that reached down to his collarbone. As for attire, he wore a white colored open yukata that matched his white pants and long sash. Around his neck was a large beaded necklace.

Beside said man, was a women with beauty beyond mortal comprehension; sitting in the most proper manor, back straight and curiously gazing towards Shirou. She wore a brilliantly colorful juunihitoe style kimono that fit her body as if it was custom tailored for her. Possessing a head of brown hair and skin as smooth as ivory, she delicately bowed her head down to Shirou in a form of greeting. As she raised her head however, their eyes met. One, auburn in color, while the other was simply crystal clear, like glass.

"Welcome." The girl with the eyes of glass said. "Please take a seat. It would be rude to make you stand for the entire time."

Graciously, Shirou sat down next to what seemed like a mummified monk. Said mummified monk, surprisingly turned to face him.

"Weeell hellooo fellow god." It said. "What brings you here?"

Shirou stared back stiffly until he formed a response within his head. "I wish to talk with the owner of this domain." He said as he stared at the occupants of the room.

"That would be me, Susanoo, god of the sea and storms." Said the man drinking sake from a saucer as he pointed to himself with his thumb. "What is it that you want to talk about?"

**"Shirou, I think it would be best if thou were to repeat after me."** Arthur said. **"I have an idea in mind."**

_"It's fine. I trust you."_

Shirou met Susanoo's gaze head on and bowed his head in a show of respect.

"I seek refuge away from the mortal realm." Shirou said as he positioned his hands in front of him. "I have just awakened from a centuries old slumber and am greatly weakened."

Susanoo laughed heartily before taking in Shirou's entire appearance.

"If the amount of divine energy you contain is weak, then I suppose I've been weak for my entire life time."

"You misunderstand me. It's not my divine energy that is weak, it's my current battle prowess." Susanoo raised an eyebrow as he placed his saucer of sake down. "I cannot explain it in great detail, but in my long slumber, my control over my Authorities has somehow deteriorated. And as such, I just need time to readjust them back to how they were before. Time in which I wish to remain here."

"And you would use your power to...?" The girl with the eyes of glass said.

"Help the people." Shirou said as the girl with the eyes of glass smiled radiantly at him in approval.

"Wow. Now I've seen it all. A god of the people huh?" Said the mummified monk. "Wonder how long that will last?"

"I don't go back on my word." Shirou said calmly. He would never forsake his ideals.

"As you are now, I would believe you." The mummified monk said as he turned to face Shirou. "What you will become later however, is a bit iffy."

_"What does he mean Arthur?"_ Shirou asked Arthur.

**"I'll explain later. For now we must continue the conversation."**

Deciding to forego his questioning Shirou turned to the mummified monk as directed by Arthur.

"If you are talking about the curse of madness, then I'm glad to say that I'm wholly unaffected." Shirou said as he continued to repeat Arthur word for word; not really understanding what it was he was saying.

The room became silent. Even the fire under the pot not making a single noise. Silent as it was, Shirou bared with it, waiting for the reactions of those present within the room who were all staring at him. Who were all lost in thought.

"A rather bold deceleration if I must say." Susanoo said after a minute or two. "But where is the proof of such words?"

"The proof lies within the fact that I am currently speaking to you and not causing a havoc in the mortal realm."

"And pray tell us of your reasoning." Susanoo said even as the shifting of his eyes showed that he already understood.

"The fact that I didn't seek battle after my awakening and chose to travel here; a realm where Heretic Gods go after they have grown tired of their time in the mortal world. A feat mind you, that one affected by the curse of madness would not do." Shirou paused for a moment before turning to face Susanoo once more. "I will ask once more. May I temporarily remain in this domain?"

There was another silence before Susanoo let out a laugh. "I like you. What is your name fellow god?"

Shirou took a moment to think about this. Should he call himself Arthur? Or should he stick with his own name?

**"Stick with thy own name."** Arthur decided for him. **"It's thou who is in control of this body. And it's thou who keeps away the curse of madness. Thou hast earned the right."**

"Shirou Emiya." Shirou said.

"Hmm. I have never heard of such a god, but perhaps you are just a recent one." Susanoo stood up and positioned himself in front of Shirou. "Shirou Emiya, as master of this domain, I grant you permission to stay until such a time that you have regained the full use of your Authorities."

A small flash, dyed the area in white before clearing to reveal a mark of some sort on Shirou's hand.

"A symbol of my acceptance." Susanoo said as he sat back down to drink sake again.

Shirou nodded his head before deciding to venture outside and get a lay of the land.

Susanoo stared at Shirou as he left the house; he would have to keep an eye on him.

* * *

Shirou awoke to the world of his soul, the Unlimited Blade Works and stared around confusedly from his position lying on the ground.

"Good, it seems you are awake." Arthur said as he stood over Shirou. He stepped a couple of paces back as Shirou stood up. "We must begin your training."

"Training? I thought I was meditating." Shirou said.

"Indeed you are. I have just pulled your consciousness into your soul." Arthur said as he tossed Shirou a blade he had picked up from the ground. "This is where your true training begins. Where you shall learn to fight with my Authorities and gather your experience. And where the concept of time is flawed."

"What do you mean by flawed?"

"I mean that time moves differently here. In here, one day is equal to one hour. A perfect place to train, but it leaves our body vulnerable which is why a safe place was required."

Shirou nodded his head in understanding. "Then let's start."

"I couldn't agree more."

* * *

(Note: I've stopped using old English from the last point on because it started to become troublesome. If you want me to continue in old English please voice it. Thank you.)

There you have it. This chapter was more along the lines of setting up the settings and such, but I believe I did a good job, otherwise...Well I got nothing really.

**Special thanks to souvikkundu0017 for providing information. Really, he has been a great help.**


	3. Knight of Valor

"Thy blows are weak." Arthur said as he parried an over head sweep. "Thy execution is sloppy." Arthur side stepped to the right; letting the blade that was aimed to pierce his gut miss by mere millimeters while using the opening created from the missed stab to lock the blade in place using an armored arm. "Thy stance is non-existent." Using his other arm, he pushed Shirou away; watching as he stumbled back a few paces, thoroughly disarmed. But there was a fire in Shirou's eyes. One that would not burn out even when dowsed with the coldest of water. One that represented his determination and similarly his motivation. "Yet thy sheer drive exceeds mine expectations. Let us take a break for now."

Exhaustively, Shirou fell towards the ground. His body was sore, his muscles felt torn, yet he did not care; he had a new goal to achieve. A goal to stake his life on. Initially he had wanted to return back to his world. To return to Rin and continue his life. But the faces of the people he helped in this world had steadily swayed him to stay. Faces that showed gratitude, need, and above all morality. A morality that would dictate them to do what was right in response to the good done for them. He did not know how he knew this, but he supposed it had something to do with being a god; the central point of human prayers. Moreover, Arthur said it was impossible to return in the first place; the theory of many alternate worlds working against him. He internally apologized to Rin for what he had decided on, but his own ideals and the situation at hand had greatly persuaded him to stay.

"Thou hath done well to last this long. Nay thou hath done exceptionally well." Arthur took a seat next to Shirou; watching as Shirou gradually made his way into a seated position. "Within a few years thou shall be quite skilled with the blade. Yet I can't help but point out that thou art developing an unorthodox way of fighting; even though thy strikes are becoming quite strong and accurate." Arthur stared hard at Shirou. "Why dost thou create such fatal openings?"

Shirou remained quite for a moment before answering. "To survive against stronger opponents." He thought back to the Holy Grail War. Of the monstrous servants he had to face. Each with near unparalleled skill. Each possessing the power to utterly destroy him. Which is why he had to find a means to cope. His skill was meager, his power insignificant when compared to a servant's, yet he had found a way. A suicidal way, but one that uses the enemies honed skill to his advantage.

Arthur stared at Shirou, his teal eyes meeting Shirou's amber. "I'm compelled to call thou an idiot, but mine own knightly will compels me to praise thee for such courage." Arthur stood up while looking around for something. "To use that style. Thou must first have the skill." Arthur pointed towards a pair of Chinese falchions. One of the brightest white, and the other of the darkest black; both beside each other. "Luckily, thou art a natural cheater to that rule." Arthur offered a hand for Shirou to take. "But that does not mean that thou should not train thyself in the way of the sword."

Shirou only smiled as he gratefully accepted the hand and used it as leverage to pull himself up. Having rested for half an hour, he felt well enough to begin moving again. Taking a step, he faltered as pain shot up his leg.

"Doth thou wish to continue at a later time?" Arthur asked as he noticed Shirou's condition.

Reluctantly, Shirou agreed, his body making the decision for him as he fell back to his knees.

"Very well. We shall commence learning mine authorities when thou art fully rested."

Arthur walked up to the numerous blades around him and began his own training. Training to call upon the armaments in the world he found himself within. Training in which he received from the very person he was training, Shirou. He found that being able to utilize such weaponry would be a great boon for his battle prowess.

A weapon of some kind began forming in Arthur's hand before shattering into fragments that faded away just before its completion. He sighed, he still had a long way to go. Suddenly, he felt a presence next to his and Shirou's shared body. Looking over to Shirou who seemed to have felt a similar feeling yet didn't know what it was, he forced Shirou's consciousness back to the surface.

Shirou opened his eyes to stare directly at a pair of curious glass eyes that were staring directly at him and stumbled back in surprise.

"You are a mystery." The woman with eyes of glass said. "I can not discern your true origins, your true identity; and yet I feel a strange familiarity with you. Who are you really?"

Surprised at the woman with eyes of glass's sudden appearance, Shirou was left speechless as Arthur laughed within his mind.

"I see that you do not wish to answer me." The woman with eyes of glass approached Shirou and whispered quietly into his left ear. "But I do love a good mystery."

A shiver ran down Shirou's spine as the woman with eyes of glass walked away to be replaced by the mummified monk who after a certain period of time began registering as a living Buddha in his mind.

"How goes your meditating Shirou?" The living Buddha asked as it approached. "Relearn any of your Authorities?"

"Quite well actually." Shirou said while scratching at the back of his head. "As for my Authorities, I'm still working on them."

"Can I be of help?"

"I appreciate your willingness to aid me, but relearning my Authorities is only something I can do." Shirou said as he could not think of a way for the living Buddha to help more than what Arthur had already done. Is still in the process of doing.

"A shame then." The living Buddha said as it began to walk away. "Feel free to call upon me if you need me."

"I will."

"Oh! by the way, are you cooking tonight?" The living Buddha asked as he eagerly turned around to face Shirou again.

Shirou sighed in response before nodding his head.

"Yes!" The living buddha said as it disappeared off into the house.

* * *

"So how is our guest?" Susanoo asked as he yawned from his position leaning his head against his fist while sitting down cross-legged.

"He is most interesting." The woman with eyes of glass said as she poured tea from a kettle into three cups. "I believe that we all know that Shirou Emiya is not his real identity as a god?"

Susanoo and the living Buddha nodded their heads in agreement.

"What sort of god do you think he is?" Susanoo asked.

"A god of cooking that one is!" The living Buddha said as he remembered the taste of the food Shirou had prepared. It was true that gods did not need food to survive, but the food that Shirou made can be counted as an exception.

The woman with eyes of glass blushed slightly as she remembered how much she had eaten that night; how unrefined she must have been; how un-ideal she must have appeared.

"It's a possibility." The woman with eyes of glass reluctantly said as she reigned in her features. "Unfortunately, my spirit vision does not seem to be effecting him so I can not say for sure."

"Which means that you have already tried." Susanoo stated as he sat up straight.

"Yes. But the results were minimal due to some sort of interference and the lack of knowledge within the memories of the void." The woman with eyes of glass distributed the cups of tea to those present. "A very peculiar case."

"Please continue."

"Spirit vision is simply glimpsing the memories of the void, the collective knowledge of the entire world within the netherworld as you already know." The woman with eyes of glass turned her gaze on the living Buddha making his fidgeting stop. "Yet nothing could be found within said memories of the void about Shirou Emiya; no such god exists." The woman with eyes of glass paused for a moment to let the information sink in before continuing. "As a result, I had attempted to simply glimpse into his soul as a method to discern his true origins and met interference. What kind of interference, I do not know; but I felt something in the process of doing so. Something very familiar to everyone present."

"And that would be?" Susanoo inquired.

"He who shall manifest at the world's end." The woman with eyes of glass said cryptically.

A change occurred within Susanoo's eyes as he stared directly at the woman with eyes of glass while the living Buddha became stock still.

"You're certain?" The living Buddha asked seriously.

"I do not lie. When have you, or Susanoo ever known me to?"

"I see." The living Buddha said as his face changed to one of deep thought.

"So what do you think this means?" Susanoo asked.

"He must have some sort of connection to he who shall manifest at the worlds end." The woman with eyes of glass replied.

"Or a similar power." The living Buddha put in.

"Ah yes, that could also be a possibility; many myths are built upon each other."

Many examples of such cases have existed throughout history. An example of such a case would be the Greek and Roman pantheon; where Roman mythology greatly took from the Greek. Changing the names, personalities, domains, and even the abilities of the gods in said myth.

"Now the question is who." Susanoo said.

"That is a question that can not be answered until such a time that we witness Shirou's Authorities or power." The woman with eyes of glass said.

"Then we wait."

"We wait."

An aroma like none other began filtering into the house. An aroma that smelt of the sweetest of honey and the most fragrant of meat. Of smells that would set the mouth to water in anticipation. Anticipation that would not be fulfilled by simply staying put, no; that would surely be a sin. A sin to ones own being. A sin towards mortal stomachs that works so hard to digest food every day. As such it would be best to satisfy this anticipation; this desire; this craving to sample such cuisine that would release such an aroma. A craving that would not go un-fulfilled.

"Ah! I smell food." The living buddha said as he eagerly got up.

"Food you say?" The woman with eyes of glass said as she sniffed the air, letting the aroma waft into her nose. "It most certainly does smell like food. What do you think Susanoo?"

"Susanoo?"

"The bastard already left! After him!"

"Such unruly behavior is below us. I shall walk there."

"Suite yourself, but don't blame me if I eat all the dessert before you get there."

"Y-You wouldn't dare." The woman with eyes of glass said as her composure began slipping.

"Oh I would dare! If it's for Shirou's food I would incur even your wrath!" The living Buddha ran outside the house's door and towards the direction of the smell yelling "I love desserts!" into the air as he went.

"Wait you b-barbarian! Don't you dare touch my sweets!" The woman with eyes of glass got up and chased after the living Buddha; giving off an appearance that was far from the ideal woman of her legend. She would later arrive to witness Shirou cooking, and that the living Buddha and Susanoo had chosen to eat all the desserts first while waiting for the main dish. Beyond vexed, she decided that she would get her revenge; one way or another.

* * *

A great force uprooted the ground within the Unlimited Blade works and sent a storm of blades in every direction; pelting the ground with large craters and creating chasms and fissures that spread across the area; resulting in the creation of a web-like pattern of cracks on the hard earth. The damage and the misplaced blades however were soon repaired and back to how they were originally as the world within the soul repaired itself.

On a hill not to far off stood Shirou trying to understand where he had gone wrong. What he had done, or failed to do as he began building up divine energy to try to utilize the power of Arthur's Authorities once more. Somehow he already knew that it wasn't due to his execution or lack of effort that he failed; it was most certainly due to something else. Something that he was missing, like a piece of a complex puzzle.

"To garner mine Authorities, thou must first believe in them." Arthur said as he strode to stand a few meters away from Shirou, his arms crossed. "Did thou not glimpse mine history through mine other's blade?"

Shirou nodded his head as he recalled the history he had attained from viewing Saber's Excalibur. Of the king who had given everything for her people. Of the king who had defended Britain from its invaders, the Saxons. And of the king who had done everything to bring Britain to an era of prosperity.

"Thou hast remembered I see." Arthur stated as he nodded his head in approval. "The strength of thy beliefs is the strength of thy power."

Shirou began to direct the flow of divine energy instead of spreading it outwards in random directions; mentally grasping it within his hands and utilizing it to become something more, something magnificent. While doing so, he continued to delve into the myth that was Arthur Pendragon; choosing to believe in the fiction and not the fact; bending his own views of reality.

"Place thy self within mine perspective and grasp what it is that I stood for; what I still stand for."

An image began forming in Shirou's mind. An image of a man adorned with the most pristine of armor riding valiantly into a battlefield and leading with him an army. An army that revered him as the one and future king. The king that would forever lead Britain and keep its people safe-a king of the people as some would say.

"Let thy own ideals fuel thy belief in my legend. Doth thou not wish to aid the people? To liberate them from harm? To save them like a fair and noble king should?"

A great fire pushed itself into the forefront of Shirou's mind. A hell fire that burned an unholy vermilion that reduced everything in its wake into ashes that dispersed with the wind. Hollow, desperate, and morbid screams were the background to such a hell fire. Screams of the people who clung to the burnt remains of their loved ones even as they too were burned alive. Their skin burnt black, their eyes blank and emotionless even as they continued to scream for help. And yet he, the only one to survive, trudged on ignoring their pleas for salvation; for help that would surely not come. It was he who trudged on, who did not even possess the power to survive on his own who was saved. Anger built up inside him, or was it guilt; he did not know for sure. Either way it was this feeling that welled up inside him that continued to drive him forward. A feeling of obligation to save all who were in need of aid. He would never again stand back and watch people die, no; for he would save them. After all, it was what he had promised himself to do; for Kiritsugu and himself. He closed his eyes and began to focus even harder; using his ideals of saving others as a catalyst to further enhance his belief of Arthur Pendragon's legend; the king, who like him, fought to protect. To save.

"Then truly believe. Take mine ideals that were used to construct mine legend, and let them resonate with thy own and manifest into being."

Suddenly, something clicked within Shirou's mind. The name that was Arthur Pendragon flashed like a shining beacon that compelled him to stop viewing himself and Arthur as two separate beings, but as one being. A being that was a king, but at the same time was also an ordinary mortal who can utilize a magic beyond comprehension.

"Thou art I, and I art thou." Arthur said as he felt the change within Shirou's mind. "Make myth become reality. Make reality bend to thy will for thou art a king! The king of knights! The one and future KING OF BRITAIN!"

All to quickly, Shirou took hold of the leverage he had felt from within himself and with a mighty heave pulled with all his strength. A strength that was attained through his present mind set.

"AAGHHHH!" Shirou yelled as power flowed through him in torrents; impatiently waiting to be utilized. Power that he knew could level mountains and reduce civilizations into dust. A power that was now his to command.

"Thou hast done it." Arthur said as he drew a basic blade from the ground that was free of any ornate designs that would impair the swords efficiency and pointed it at Shirou.

"Now speak mine words of power and unleash the chains that shackle mine Authorities into mere myths!" A shield adorned with the image of the holy Mary, the everlasting virgin appeared on Arthur's left forearm. "Take thy blade and come at me!"

From Shirou, a light erupted. Pure dazzling light that engulfed the area, making it so that nothing could be seen.

"Now the true training begins." Arthur said as he blocked the edge of sword imbued with power beyond mortal understanding.

* * *

"You seem troubled lately." Susanoo said to the woman with eyes of glass.

"No. It's nothing for you to concern yourself with." The woman with eyes of glass tucked a long strand of her brown hair behind her left ear as she continued to stare off into the distance through a window in the house.

"Then as a fellow god I'll respect your wishes, but as a friend I will ask again." Susanoo insisted.

"..." The woman with eyes of glass opened her mouth, but promptly closed it again as she reconsidered something.

"Awhhh. She's the quite and reserved type." The living Buddha suddenly said as he decided to no longer keep quite. "Reminds me of someone before she went into her rebellious faze doesn't it Grampsy?"

"Shut up. That girl has become a handful as of late, but it's better than how she was at the start." Susanoo crossed his arms and sent a glare toward the living Buddha while crossing his arms.

"You mean like how our princess is acting here?" The living Buddha said nonchalantly while gaining the woman with eyes of glass's attention.

"...I'm still here you know." Agitation was laced in the woman with eyes of glass's voice; she didn't feel like putting up with anything at the moment as she was preoccupied with something else.

"What was that? Is that agitation I hear coming from our most reserved and elegant lady?"

"Hmph!" The woman with eyes of glass got up and left; choosing to leave instead of stay.

"A bit far don't you think?"

"Working her up is the only way to get her to talk; makes her think less about her actions." The living Buddha said as he made himself comfortable in front of Susanoo while reaching for some sweets on a platter.

"And makes you seem like a bastard." Susanoo put in as he sipped some tea from a cup in his hand.

"At least call me a handsome bastard."

"You can be mistaken for a mummified monk even though you are actually a living Buddha." Susanoo dead panned.

"Touché. So where do you think she went?"

"Away from you."

"You wound me friend." The living Buddha said as he brought an arm to his chest. "But seriously, where do you think she went?"

"Probably to immerse herself in her new found hobby."

"Sounds exactly like her, she always did love mysteries."

"I admit however, that I too have grown curious..."

Meanwhile the woman with eyes of glass walked with her cheeks puffed up in frustration. Sometimes she just couldn't stand that Buddha, and yet she always forgives him anyway. She sighed as she knew that the living Buddha probably meant well.

Seeing Shirou who sat meditatively by the stream, she positioned herself in front of him and began to observe.

* * *

"Thou hath learned mine Authorities well." Arthur said as he looked proudly at Shirou who was panting from exhaustion. An exhaustion that was short lived as he got his breathing back in rhythm.

"Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you." Shirou said as he planted the swords he was holding into the ground.

"Thank me not Shirou. It was thy effort that let thou succeed." Arthur dematerialized his shield and stabbed the sword in his hand on the ground.

"But it was your guidance that pushed me in the right direction."

"I see that this conversation will lead us nowhere."

"Agreed."

"There is still something thou must know however." Arthur said as he took a seat on the ground; Shirou followed his example.

"And that would be?" Shirou inquired.

"That thou hast not completely mastered mine Authorities."

"But you just said that I-"

"-Learned the Authorities of the _King Arthur_ of Legend well."

Shirou remained silent as he began to think on what Arthur had said. Had he been wrong to assume that he had completed his training? Whatever the answer was, he was currently drawing a blank at the moment. "What do you mean?" He finally asked.

Arthur drew a dagger beside him and began to etch a drawing on the loose gravel of the ground. A drawing of a dragon that became a man clad in armor, and then of the man slaying other dragons who would turn into woman that remained by the man's side. Soon after the man clad in armor became another man entirely; his old armor replaced with a more elaborate one; his blade having changed into a spear.

"There are many things that make up a god such as their legends or epics, but what you should know Shirou is that those legend or epics often tie into other legends and epics." Arthur tossed the dagger he was using away.

"Meaning?"

"That just as I am god of steel that embody's the sword," Arthur pointed at the man clad in armor that was slaying other dragons. "I can also be considered a god of the earth that embody's nature." Arthur pointed at the dragon before it became a man clad in armor. "Similarly, I can also be a different god of steel entirely." Arthur pointed at the final drawing of the man clad in new armor and weaponry.

"..." Shirou could say nothing as could not understand the points that Arthur had made. Moreover, he was still coming to terms with the Authorities he had gained.

"Forget about this for now, thou should first get accustomed to mine Authorities as a god of steel." Arthur got up and extended a hand for Shirou to take. "It would not do to have thou beliefs waver in the midst of battle; I shall teach you of this at a later point." Shirou took Arthur's hand and was hoisted up on his feet.

"Alright then." Shirou said.

Suddenly, a disturbed look crossed Arthur's face before he turned his gaze on Shirou. "It appears that woman is here again." He said.

"I admire her tenacity."

"Then go greet her." Arthur dead panned.

"Your going to force me out again aren't you?"

"Thou hast gotten to know me well."

Energy began circling around Shirou; enshrouding him in a tornado of sorts.

"...Let's get it over with." Shirou said as he felt the familiar sense of weightlessness before he awoke within his body.

Opening his eyes he met the woman with eyes of glass's face. Oddly enough, a twitch began forming on it, but more accurately, her left eyebrow. A twitch that seemed to spread, before suddenly subsiding. Subsiding into a serene state that felt extremely forced.

"Why is it that every time I begin to observe you, you stop meditating?" The woman with eyes of glass asked as an aura of malevolence began building around her.

"It's your imagination I assure you." Shirou said, trying to play it off as coincidence.

"If so, it wouldn't be rude of me to knock you out to better analyze you?"

"That would be very rude, and quite unpleasant."

"Unpleasant as it may be, this is my imagination is it not?" A question mark seemed to appear beside the woman with eyes of glass's head.

**"I can't believe thou hast gotten thyself into such a situation."** Arthur said as sighed in exasperation.

_"Your disbelief is not helping."_

"Rude is still rude." Shirou maintained.

The woman with eyes of glass sighed. "I suppose your right." The aura around her disappeared and she knelt next to Shirou. "So how goes your training? Relearn your Authorities?"

"Yes actually, I should be leaving this realm soon." Shirou said. With the Authorities he had learned, Arthur had advised him to return to the mortal realm and gain real experience.

A look of consideration crossed the woman with eyes of glass's face before it was smoothed over.

"Back to the realm of mortals?"

"Most likely."

The woman with eyes of glass sat quietly staring at her reflection on the stream. A reflection that reminded her greatly of her troubles. Troubles that would not be solved by doing nothing and hoping for the best. For in the act of doing so, said trouble might lead to something far worse. Why take a chance, if an opportunity presented itself before her? An opportunity that would eliminate the concept of simple chance.

"...May I ask you a favor Shirou." The woman with eyes of glass asked apprehensively.

**"Thou should think very carefully about fulfilling a god's request. They are normally accompanied by much battle and blood she-"**

"Sure, I do wish to repay yours and everyone's kindness towards me." Shirou said naturally.

**"What art thou doing Shirou?! Did I not hammer into thy head the consequences of thy actions?!"**

"_It should be fine. We do owe them for their hospitality._"

**"...You're still naive Shirou."** Arthur sighed. **"Yet your naivety is what ultimately guided thou to me."**

The woman with eyes of glass smiled radiantly at Shirou.

"You're a good man Shirou."

"No I'm just like anyone else." Shirou scratched at the back of his head as he smiled awkwardly at the woman with eyes of glass. "So what is this favor that you ask for?"

"Ah, I need you to..."

* * *

A brown haired girl fumbled with the ties of the brown one-piece gown she wore that closed by the sides; her fingers trembling to much to be of much use. None could fault her for her current inability however; being the situation she found herself in was less than forthcoming, but rather untimely and sudden. Moreover, she was still a child barely in her teens. A child who possessed a great aptitude in a specific power. A power that forced her into said situation.

A silver haired girl suddenly makes her way towards the brown haired girl; kneeling by her side, she tied the one-piece gown in one quick motion. With purpose, the silver haired girl stood up, her hair ever so slightly swaying from side to side. She too wore the same brown one-piece gown.

"Thank you." The brown haired girl said.

"I've done nothing to earn your gratitude." The silver haired girl replied back.

"And yet you have still helped me."

A silence passed as both girls regarded each other before the brown haired girl extended out her hand in greeting.

"Mariya Yuri."

"...Liliana Kranjcar." Liliana took Mariya's hand and shook it.

Letting go, they both looked around the room they were in. The room was dark, the only light coming from lit candles that were spaced far away from each other; the moving flame of the candles, distorted the shadows into odd, bent, or twisted shapes. The light, however little it may have been, illuminated the walls. Walls crafted with the best of architecture designed to be pleasant to the eyes; and yet now, in the dimly lit room occupied by scared Hime-Miko and Witches, the walls only served as an elaborate prison. A prison where many knew that they would die, or suffer from some sort of draw back from the ritual that was to be performed on this day. A ritual that required many Witches and Hime-Miko to accomplish; which spoke of the magnitude of the danger. A ritual that requires such an abundance of spiritually aware individuals could only mean that said ritual must use up a lot of energy. But an energy that amounts to literally hundreds of Hime-Miko and Witches? The ritual that is to be performed on this day must be on the grand scale.

On the ground in which Liliana, Mariya, and many other Witches and Hime-Miko stood, was the foundation of said ritual; a ginormous magical seal. A magic seal that encompassed most of the entire room. A magic seal that glowed an ominous pale green.

The sounds of foot steps alerts everyone to the approaching man who had walked out from behind a door. This man was the man who had orchestrated this whole affair. This man was the oldest Campione, the Marquis Voban.

"Greetings Witches, and Hime-Miko of orient. I have gathered you all here today for one purpose and that one purpose only, to summon a worthy god to face me in battle." Voban smiled, the smile that only true predators can attain. "To achieve such an end, I do not care whether or not some of you, or even all of you die."

Looks of fear spread throughout the crowd of Witches and Hime-Miko gathered. They had known that there may be casualties due the enormity of the ritual, but to think they were gathered to summon a god. Many of of them burst into tears at the situation they found themselves in; away from family; away from home; and under the tyrannical rule of a mad man.

Vodan nodded to one of his undead servants.

"Let the ritual begin."

The magic seal created a barrier of sorts around the Witches and Hime-Miko, caging them inside. From within, many began steadily collapsing as their power was drawn away from them. Of the many who collapsed, there were still many who stood tall even as their energy was steadily drained away. Of these people was Liliana Kranjcar and Mariya Yuri; both of them maintained themselves on their feet. For collapsing meant giving up. And giving up could mean death that may not be swift. Those who had collapsed around them suddenly began screaming, their hands closed around their faces. Empty hollow screams filled the area. Screams devoid of any real emotion but pain. A pain that steadily began to erode at their minds and their sanity; the very thing that made humans different from animals.

As the screams continued to fill the air, a ball of energy began forming above the Hime-Miko and Witches. A ball that resonated divine power. Power possessed by the emerging god. A power that would have killed all the Hime-Miko and Witches present if not for a sword that pierced through the barrier the Hime-Miko and Witches were surrounded in. That one sword however, was soon followed by another, and then another, and then another. It was an endless hail of swords that completely obliterated the magic seal on the ground.

The ball of energy that had been forming in the air due to the energy of the Hime-Miko and Witches dispersed while the energy drain stopped. This however did not mean that the effect that the magic seal had on the Witches and Hime-Miko disappeared. Many still lay sprawled on the ground; their vocal cords torn from excess screaming. And many had suffered mental damage. A damage that was not easily repaired.

Mariya and Liliana stared befuddled at an armored knight that had appeared in the remains of the broken circle. His armor consisted of a blue garment lined with white on the sides that encompassed his under body. The garment swayed to the rhythm of the knights steps as he viewed the results of the magic seal. Over his chest and most of his body was steel plate that fitted his form near perfectly so as not to hinder movement. His shoulders too had steel plate that guarded their entirety, but at the same time did not hinder his arm movements as shown when he knelt and took a fallen Witch to support on his right arm. His arm did not provide discomfort for the one who was leaning against it, for his right arm was free of armor; only the blue lined with white garb and laced gold strings covered it. He wore gauntlets however on both hands, his left arm having a sort of vambrace. His head revealed a startling blend of blond and red, so much so that it looked as if it were dyed; some parts even looking orange.

Wordlessly, the knight lay the Witch back on the ground and stood protectively in front of all the Witches and Hime-Miko. A soothing aura soon encompassed said Witches and Hime-Miko, slowly drawing their pain and anguish away as they all looked up at the brave knight who stood protectively in front of them. Of the knight who had freed them from a cruel fate. Of the knight who radiated divine power in droves as he stared down Voban. It was as if a scene from a myth was playing out in front of their very eyes. A myth where the hero would always prevail as he protected the innocent. It was in this belief that many Witches and Hime-Miko gradually began to feel safe, regardless of the tyrannical Campione standing several meters away.

"What have you done?" The knight asked Voban coldly as he glared at him.

Liliana Kranjcar watched on from her position behind the knight. Not just watching, but listening to the way the knight's voice boiled with rage. A rage created for her sake, no; every Witch and Hime-miko's sake, she corrected herself. Oddly enough, she envisioned roses around the knight as he stood protectively in front of her and everyone else. Roses that disappeared as soon as she saw them. She was getting carried away with her novels she realized, and yet she did not mind. For she, as soon as the knight had appeared, felt safe and protected. Protected from any harm that may come to her due to the knight who would save her. Who would fight for her. And who would take her away after defeating Voban. She brought a hand to her blushing face as she realized that she got carried away.

Mariya Yuri at the same time as Liliana, felt as if all of her worries just vanished while she watched the knight stand protectively in front of her, the Hime-Miko, and the Witches. There was something about the knight that drew away all her troubles, her worries, and fears. Something about the Knight that made it seem that everything would be alright as long as he was there. She took refuge in that reasoning that everything would be alright and looked apprehensively as the Knight spoke in defense of her, the Hime-Miko, and the Witches.

"Only what was necessary to provide me with entertainment." Voban replied as he smiled at Shirou. "Something it seems they were able to do."

"You would do so at the cost of death and injury?" The knight asked as he clenched his armored fist as if he were about to grip a weapon of some kind.

"Why yes. As a Campione, a being who stands atop mortals, why should I care if a few die?"

A few Witches and Hime-Miko behind the knight flinched on reflex to the Marquis's words. Of his blatant disregard to human life.

The knight raised an armored hand as a sword materialized in his grasp.

"I will ask you once." The knight said as he stabbed his sword into the ground. "Will you let these maidens go and never again repeat such a travesty as this?"

Voban laughed at such an absurd question. "I would repeat such a travesty as many times as need be to satisfy myself regardless if I let the maidens run free at this moment."

"I see." Divine power began circulating around the knight; blasting the debris around him in every direction, yet none hitting any of the Hime-Miko or Witches. "Then you leave me no choice."

"Choice?" Voban laughed aloud as he released his own divine energy. "There was no choice to begin with."

Dead servants began appearing in the vicinity; their hollow gazes directed at the Hime-Miko, Witches, and the lone knight. Gazes that had long ago lost any of the emotions that had once shined brilliantly through their eyes. Eyes that were now just empty sockets which served to frighten others.

Armed with weapons and armors from the ages that were once known to be elegant yet durable, they slowly advanced forward; waiting for the call of their master. The master in which they had all at one point fought and died; their valiant efforts no more than just a means to strengthen the influence of the oldest Campione.

Unbeknownst to everyone, a man lay hidden in the far dark corner of the room; concealing himself within the shadows.

The knight stepped an armored foot forward followed by another; his gait sure and strong, for true was his path. The path of a warrior. Of a knight. Of a king. And of a Hero. The knight's mouth moved and from it came his will. A will spoken so surely, and so strongly that there could be no doubts. These were words of power. Words that alter the very fabric of space and time.

**"I am a king of the people that walk the fair and righteous path."**

**"A path of virtue, honor, and chivalry that lead to the creation of a kingdom. A kingdom that all would flock to, yet none would know of its location."**

**"As such, it can be anywhere."**

* * *

Well this chapters done. I feel as if I rushed it a bit, but this is what I got.

**Special thanks to souvikkundu0017**


	4. The Marquis Voban

**"I am a king of the people that walk the fair and righteous path."**

**"A path of virtue, honour, and chivalry that lead to the creation of a kingdom. A kingdom that all would flock to, yet none would know of its location."**

**"As such, it can be anywhere."**

**"For it is not simply just a kingdom built by the hands of mortals. It is a kingdom that represented a dream that all people scattered in the past, present, and future will forever herald with the utmost respect."**

**"For its memory shall forever be preserved within the hearts of man."**

The air began shimmering; distorting the world around everyone present as reality bent to the knight's will. The knight who stood resolute in his cause. Who would not falter in the face of his perceived evil, his adversary; the man who would demean the lives of the innocent for his own gain and entertainment: Marquis Voban.

The ground began transitioning from tiled floor, to lush grass and loose gravel as a great wind began blowing. The wind rocking the grass back and forth as the roof of the room they were in was replaced by a vast blue sky. Off to the side was a great fortified castle sporting the flag of the welsh dragon and off the British flag. The flags standing tall, with dignity and pride for the castle in which they adorned.

It was at this very moment that all would see that the very world had changed.

* * *

"Marvelous." Voban said as he stared across the vast expanse. At the open plain and lush trees growing a small distance away from a lake bed to his far right. "A fitting area to do battle."

His undead servants gathered in front of him, weapons raised, shields at the ready. And yet they didn't move, didn't so much as take a single step. for even in death they were still once battle honed warriors. As such they could instinctively feel the tension in the air. A tension that threatened to utterly destroy them had they taken that initial step forward.

And the undead servants were right in doing so.

"If you would summon an army of undead to fight your battles, then I shall call forth the weapons of my armory." The knight said as green light began filling the air.

The light moved like lightning as it took shape. Shapes that could not be mistaken for anything other than weapons. Weapons that in an instant took material form. Their majesty and grace unmistakable to that of weapons of legends forged in flame and tempered in battle. Swords. Spears. Axes. Armaments of all kinds. They all turned their aim to towards the undead; their blade edges sharp, their lethality without question.

Yet in response to this, Voban had only smiled at the prospect of a battle. It was all he could live for. All that he stood for...At least ever since that day.

He cleared his mind of such irrelevant thoughts. Nothing was more important at this moment. This moment in time where he can once again feel alive. To feel, even if it came in the form of the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Go." Voban commanded his undead.

Steam seamed to flow out of the undead's mouths as if there still existed lungs within their chest cavities to regulate breathing. But yet they could not, for they were simply skeletons; husks of their former selves denied entrance into heaven or hell. And so it can be said that they no longer knew fear. For fear is what separates the living from the dead. For fear is simply an instinct to preserve one's life.

With hollow downtrodden gazes, the undead moved forward in a sprint; their feet trampling the green grass beneath them and propelling them forward.

Like a missile, a single sword shot forward at super sonic speed; landing directly in front of the approaching army of undead; the sword impacting the ground and creating a smoke screen of dust and debris that cut away the knight from view.

Fearlessly, the undead charged within the dust cloud; the few magic using undead servants staying behind so as to cast their spells.

The sounds of steel grating against steel could be heard from within the cloud of dust and debris as the glow of numerous sparks could be seen. As expected, it was accompanied with the sounds of more objects impacting against the ground. Be that as it may, the sound had only lasted for but a moment and all was quite as the dust began to settle.

The dust settled, the results revealed.

The ground lay battered, pulverized by numerous impacts that gouged out large craters filled with the undead. Their armor in tatters, like Swiss cheese. A sword stuck out of one's chest, a spear stabbed straight through another's head and down to his lower body. Others were less fortunate, their limbs hacked and lay severed on the ground as daggers had stabbed through their faces. Cracking them, fracturing them. There was nothing left of the skull-ed visages but the lower maws.

The Marquis Voban smiled in utter defiance to the knight.

He raised a hand and more undead rose to replace those who had fallen, but he waved them to the side as he built up magical energy around him. His mouth elongated, his body shot outwards and vertically as his hands turned into claws. Claws that were quickly covered in sleek blue fur that sprouted from his entire body. His face was of the wolf bringing life to the saying "if you live among wolves you have to act like a wolf." For around him appeared his pack. His wolves that would obey his command.

The battle had only just begun.

* * *

Lilianna Kranjcar narrowed her eyes so as to bare witness to the battle that was underway from the top of the castle wall where she and the other Witches and Hime-Miko found themselves. And yet, she was not the only one as all eyes were turned to such a battle between god and Campione. They did not watch simply because it was a rare occurrence, but it would dictate the fate of their lives. Would the hero, the knight who fought in their defense, or would the villain, the Marquis Voban come out victorious.

She clasped her hands in prayer for the knight as did many others. For that knight, though a god, would stand up for them, mere mortals. It drove their maiden hearts a flutter; for there were such stories of gods and mortals producing children of great power. Demi-gods.

"Lord grant him strength!" They prayed.

All the while a man walked out from the shadows and towards the group of women. His steps tapping against the hard stone of the castle wall.

* * *

_"What is this power coursing through me?"_ Shirou asked Arthur as he felt a rise in his reserves. The feeling came naturally as breathing, or as one would gauge their level of fatigue.

**"That be the power of prayer,"** Arthur said as he looked through Shirou's eyes to focus on their opponent. **"Similarly, it is the power of protecting the weak; an attribute of a god of steel. Now focus, he is comming."**

_"Understood."_

Shirou's beast of an opponent sucked in air, its chest expanding before a ferocious howl traveled through Voban's tracheae and out of his mouth. A mouth that revealed Voban's sharp canines and course tongue that hung loose for a moment as it licked its lips.

With practiced movement, Voban who clearly resembled a wolf, crouched down and tensed his hind muscles as his jade eyes locked on to Shirou. Eyes that knew no fear. Eyes of a predator assessing the capabilities of its prey. And yet those eyes held something more.

* * *

_"What is thy name child?" The boy did not respond, choosing to lay limp by the road side due to malnourishment. His eyes however, drifted towards the direction of the voice. "I can tell from thy eyes that thou art not a coward who would run away from life, no; thine eyes tell me a different story."_

_The boy positioned himself up; using nothing but his will power alone. With narrowed eyes he turned towards his questioner, yet still he did not give an answer._

* * *

With a speed that no mortal could ever hope to match, Voban sprung from his hind legs and fell into a quadrupedal-ed stance that served to further increase his speed. For it was a fact that bipedal animals are slower than quadrupedal ones.

Voban's claws tore craters into the ground due to the force of each step. Each step supporting the weight of his near twenty meter in length form.

Above Voban, countless weapons hanging limply in the air, shot forward; swords vying to pierce, axes spinning like saw blades cutting the wind and producing a high pitched frequency noise.

Spears, daggers, all moved in varying motions in a way that would increase their lethality. If an axe was meant to chop, what would have been the point of shooting it like a dagger, a sword, or a spear? There simply wasn't.

Shirou's weapons weren't simply limited to spears, axes, or daggers, no.

A different sort of weapon flew through the air creating a lower frequency noise as it spun in a fashion similar to the axes. Its motion perpetual, its shaft imbalanced with its head as it bludgeoned the smaller wolves in its path. Heads were crushed, limbs broken and lay detached and battered on the ground before fading. Yet such a weapon was not enough to hinder Voban's massive form as it had only deflected off the form's hide and lay sprawled on the ground. Its motion stopped, the image of the weapon no longer blurred.

It was a bloody mace.

Similarly, other weapons didn't have an effect, their value as weapons to low for they were simply mundane; their majestic appearance but an effect of the imbued essence of divinity. That however did not mean that they weren't effective in slowing down Voban. A constant torrent of steel rained down on him like rain, weighing him down as water would with dry clothes.

"This is beginning to irritate me." Voban said.

The wolves and undead surged forward, effectively using their bodies as shields. For a brief moment, the faces that had once been plastered on the undead returned; their gazes downcast, their will no longer their own.

Blocked by the mass of bodies, the torrent of steel was no longer effective as Voban closed in on Shirou; his mouth opened, teeth bared in a manor reminiscent of a smile. With one final stride, the ground tore, the wind billowed, and Voban lashed out at Shirou; his front paw swiping with ferocious vigor.

Vigor that soon intensified as Voban's paw met resistance.

Shirou strained against the force of the blow, his arms locked, his muscles tense.

**"Place mine divinity into thy arms."** Arthur said.

Doing as advised, Shirou's arms relaxed as the force exuded by the blow became minimal; his power matching his enemy's. Be that as it may, the situation was intensified as Voban swiped with his other paw, the force greater if not equal to the previous. Lashing out with both of his arms, Shirou forced his way out of the situation and took a cautious leap back. His eyes trained on Voban for any sudden movements.

"Impressive." Voban complimented. "But the warm up's over."

Wordlessly, Shirou extended out his arms. Teal coloured lightning erupted from his palms before a sword appeared in each hand. One of the darkest black, and one of the purest white.

Kanshou and Bakuya: Gan Jiang and Mo Ye. Twin swords representing yin and yang encountered by Archer at some point during his lifetime and added to the numerous weapons recorded and stored in Unlimited Blade Works. They are Archer's favored weapons to project, having become his symbol after wielding them all his life. Rather than what the blades represented, Archer found the craftsmanship of the blades to be extremely captivating and beautiful; not withstanding that the blades matched his style of fighting.

Despite not having a wielder in the legends, they are still Noble Phantasms crafted by the blacksmith Gān Jiàng, Kanshou, of Wu during the spring and autumn period of China. They were crafted more for the sake of crafting, as if questioning the meaning of the sword smith, rather than for any real idea behind their creation. They were created without vanity, and lack a sense of purpose found in other swords. They contain no fighting spirit to defeat others, or competitive spirit to beat other weapons. They contain neither the desire to be famous nor the faith to accomplish great deeds. In other word, perfect for a man like Archer.

The air buzzed as Voban sprang forward; creating a noise reminiscent of a flying bee. Voban's teeth bared, he bit down on Shirou with unimaginable force.

The ground shook, ripples formed in the nearby lake, and a shock wave of wind blew out with Shirou at the epicenter. His arms were locked in place, Kanshou and Bakuya respectively lodged against the beast's teeth to prevent the fatal clamping of its mouth.

A sudden feeling of trepidation welled up within Shirou as he noticed the beast's eyes narrow at him. With not a moment to waste, he lashed out by kicking the beast's lower mandible which shook from the impact, but still held fast. He knew that he was in trouble.

The pressure of the bite intensified as Shirou felt a familiar sense of weightlessness associated with losing his footing.

The beast had jumped. He still lodged firmly within the beast's mouth due to the constant pressure of the beast's jaws. Jaws that released themselves as soon as the beast had reached a high enough altitude.

Falling as gravity compelled him downwards, he instinctively reinforced his body; an aura emitting off of him before vanishing the second he had finished his reinforcement.

The beast's eyes widened, before snarling as if it was reminded of a painful memory. It spun and struck a well timed paw down on him. Evading, he retaliated by swinging down with Kanshou, cutting into the beast's paw, but similarly leaving himself open for the beast's follow up. A follow up that came in the form of a furred leg that struck him on the side, but fortunately he just barely managed to block with Bakuya.

The force of the blow however, had sent him careening down towards the ground where he crashed and tumbled a few paces before re-orientating himself.

Voban stared down at Shirou as he landed a fair distance off. His eyes no longer contained the glint of blood lust, that Shirou had witnessed at the beginning of the battle, but rather something else.

"You." Voban said as he thoroughly eyed Shirou. "Your presence is familiar."

* * *

_"Eat." He said. A sack of food was laid out on the dirt ground in front of the child._

_"I won't thank you." Said the boy already eyeing the food. His stomach growled, his mouth began to water. He had not eaten in the past four days. Life was hard without money after all. Even more so when no one cared for you._

_"I do not do this for thanks child." He sat, staring across at the boy._

_"..." Hesitantly, the boy reached out for a bright red apple, staring un-trustingly at the provider. When said provider simply urged him on after taking a bite of another apple, he hungrily devoured all the food brought to him; never truly tasting it in his haste._

* * *

Wordlessly, Shirou got up. There wasn't a scratch on him due to the passive boost of being within Camelot, his sturdy body, and his own reinforcement.

**"Are you alright Shirou?"** Arthur asked.

_"I'm fine."_

Voban shook his head and once again stared down at Shirou, blood lust returning into his eyes.

This time however, before Voban could take the initiative, Shirou sped forward; his arms to his side. He flung Kanshou and Bakuya towards the beast, creating another pair in the process of doing so.

**Spirit and technique, flawless and firm**

Laughing at such an absurdly obvious attack, Voban deflected Kanshou and Bakuya away with his arms. Sending them sailing over head and towards the pack of wolves and undead acting as meat shields to prevent interruption from the torrent of blades created by Shirou.

They cut, they severed, they chopped.

Hordes of undead were demolished. Packs of wolves howled their final desperate cries as Kanshou and Bakuya tore through them all and disappeared off into the distance.

At the same time however, many of the weapons Shirou had traced had already lost their value as they were lodged in the ground. Unable to utilize them any longer, Shirou had willed them to fade away; leaving behind only the ones that were still suspended within the air.

**Our strength rips the mountains**

Shirou dodged an attack of hoarfrost and fire from the beast's undead magicians who were promptly skewered by lances, before closing in on the beast.

His arms were crossed, his second traced pair of Kanshou and Bakuya at the ready grasped within his palms. With a battle cry he lashed out.

**Our swords split the water**

One strike. Two strikes. Three.

Shirou launched three strikes that Voban had blocked, and yet he did not waver. Blow after blow he pressed on. Blow after blow the beast steadily began to bore down on him; its claws extending from its paws. Four sixteen inch blades for claws that were more reminiscent of serrated Persian sabers with the blade edge at the curved side.

"You are inexperienced with battle," Voban kicked at the ground, sending a shower of debris at Shirou who did not relent on his blows.

Shirou's face remained the utmost calm, for uncertainty had no place in battle. In was a concept persistently hammered into his head by Arthur.

"Or perhaps it is but a facade." Voban mused as he dodged a precise chop to his neck before he began to actively attempt to cut Shirou into pieces; using the dust of the debris to mask his blows.

**Our names reach the imperial villa**

Valiantly, Shirou endured the bout with Voban; Kanshou and Bakuya deflecting away Voban's claws.

"Your words hold power." Voban analyzed. "Divine words?"

Shirou's eyes narrowed before he spotted an opening from the beast as it over extended with a swipe of its paw. With but a small release of his breath, he struck. Quick was his movement; strong was his blow. The beast reeled back in pain as Kanshou sunk through its sturdy skin and into the fleshy pink muscle beneath.

Voban howled, sending veritable shock waves through the air that oscillated and vibrated through the area. Voban retreated, a paw over his injury as he began to heal from the aura exuding out of his body.

From the distant horizon, in the east and in the west, twin objects flew down from the air. Both sailing down, decreasing their altitude and converting all their potential energy into highly destructive kinetic force. A force that would be backed with mystical properties.

**The two of us cannot hold the heavens together.**

"Trace on." Shirou said as he threw the second pair of Kanshou and Bakuya in his hands at Voban while he traced a third pair; flooding them with prana and divinity that surpassed the amount Kanshou and Bakuya could hold. They cracked, forming hair-lined fissures that ran up and down the twin blades.

From those fissures, light energy began emitting; breaking the blades and forcing said fissures larger and larger until Kanshou and Bakuya resembled the wings of an angel. Steel pinions of the darkest black and the purest white that extended over both of Shirou's shoulder's as he crossed them behind his back.

His appearance was that of an angel falling from grace. As if the black of Kanshou's blade represented the bleak sacrifice and sorrow of their creator while Bakuya's white represented the hopes and dreams.

They were descending from the air with Shirou held within his hands; for they could not hold the heavens together.

"A god of such steel." Voban said as he stared mesmerized by the scene. "Truly magnificent."

Voban's ears perked up as the sounds of an incoming object invaded them.

He looked to the east and to the west and discovered his folly in the form of two identical blades homing in on him.

He was trapped. Caged-in in all fronts. Whether it be from the blades coming in from his back, the ones directly in front of him, or Shirou who was soaring down on lethal steel wings.

He braced himself. Bolstered his defenses. For escape was simply impossible.

Shirou swung down as all the traced copies of Kanshou and Bakuya converged at one point. The Marquis Voban.

**Crane Wing Three Realm!**

* * *

_"Why doth thou follow me?" He said as he turned back to the boy who followed him a couple paces back. The road side in which they walked upon was strewn with rigid and decrepit looking remains of decaying leaves and other such shrubbery. It was fall. Cold tail winds blew from the north, scattering around the debris on the road._

_A child barely eight years old held his tongue as he could not come up with an answer. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of rejection that was keeping him from speaking his mind. Choosing instead to mask it behind his built up tolerance. His lips quirked into a frown as his little fingers closed into tiny fists._

_"Why do you let me?" The boy asked defiantly._

* * *

Andrea Rivera stepped out of the shadows and approached the line of sight of the Witches and Hime-Miko.

He knew he shouldn't have followed after that idiot, but low and behold he did. He was a fool. What did he honestly expect? That that idiot of a friend of his would run off to some tea party? No, of course not. It always had to be into a damn bloody life or death situation.

He brought a hand to his chest as he was sure that he was finished when he had gotten trapped within the chamber in which a ritual held by the Marquis Voban was taking place. Now however, it would seem that he was safe within the castle produced from the Authority of the knight that had appeared and stopped the ritual.

"I mean you no harm." He said as the group of women tensed with his approach.

"Who are you?" Mariya Yuri asked as she stepped to the front of the crowd. All eyes were drawn to Andrea. All ears were listening for any hint of treachery. Of cleverly hidden lies that may lie behind his speech.

"Andrea Rivera." Andrea said as he turned to a girl with a familiar shade of silver hair. "You remember me do you not, Liliana Kranjcar?"

Liliana remained silent; her face one of contemplation. Her eyes were closed, her facial features scrunched up while she stroked her chin with a thumb from her right hand.

"The King's Butler?"

She finally concluded as she opened her eyes to stare at Andrea.

"...Yes," Andrea sighed in mortification. "Unfortunately I have been branded with such a name."

Upon gaining acknowledgment of her deductive reasoning, Liliana asked the very first thought that appeared in her mind.

"Where is your king, Lord S-?"

Andrea's eyes twitched before they began to spasm uncontrollably; a psychotic look plastered on his face.

"Do you know what that idiot has put me through?!"

A cold feeling of maliciousness washed through everyone present as an aura of dread seemed to gather around Andrea. Andrea began laughing hysterically into the air.

"I'm going for a walk he said as he restrained me and tied me up on the back of a pick up truck. A back of a damn pick up truck!"

Andrea paced back and forth, a glint of the beginnings of lunacy sparkling in his eyes.

"I escaped of course, but what do you know, my king's walk involved paying the Marquis Voban a visit."

Andrea's laugh escalated to full blown hysterics.

"When I get my hands on the ba-"

"-Andrea?"

"...Yes?" Andrea said as the aura of dread disappeared. Noticing the looks he was receiving, Andrea re-adjusted his business suit and released his breath while acting as if nothing was the matter.

"No, never mind." Liliana said momentarily stunned.

A shock wave shot through the air; shaking the castle ground in which Andrea and everyone else stood. Their eyes widened in surprise as they fought to steady themselves, some already on the ground since they were unable to maintain their balance. As soon as it occurred, it had stopped. Everyone ran over to the edge of the castle's wall and peered at the cloud of smoke rising in the distance.

* * *

The dead were buried. The pack of wolves destroyed by the resulting shock wave of the explosion that had occurred. Countless weapons lay scattered across the ground, many already beginning to fade. At the center of the blast lay a massive crater. The water from the nearby lake pooling inside and reflecting the image of the tranquil blue sky over head.

Shirou stood standing alone at the top of the crater. His eyes wary of any movement. Any indication of potential danger. His armor was torn in various places; his brow glistened with a sheen of sweat that began to form droplets. Droplets that rolled down to his chin and onto the earth below.

The ground quaked as a column of green light shot up into the sky from the epicenter of the blast crater.

"You impress me more and more." Voban said as he appeared a fair distance off. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead and onto the white of his tuxedo in which he wore; staining it a scarlet red as if a rose had suddenly bloomed. "To have forced me to revert back into my base form. Truly commendable, God of Steel."

"I shall accept your praise and deliver my own as a knight, no; as a king should." Shirou's eyes narrowed at Voban as he grudgingly acknowledged his opponents skill. "You are a rather durable and strong opponent aren't you."

"Of course. It's to be expected of me, the oldest Campione after all." Voban began to ponder on a certain subject. "Those blades," He began. "They were of eastern origin, and yet your appearance leads me to believe that you hail from the west. How intriguing."

"I am a mystery as quoted by a certain goddess I know." Shirou stated as he shrugged his shoulders. And yet not once did he let his guard down during this brief and unexpected armistice.

"Indeed you are." Voban crossed his arms together as his gaze lingered on Shirou. On the sleek steel armor in which Shirou wore over his fine royal blue embroidered with gold lace undershirt. "Indeed you are."

Shirou's gaze too, lingered on Voban. At the face that had grown wrinkles which seemed to age his features by a couple decades. And yet this did not hide the outline of Voban's complexion that was sure to have been rather dashing in his younger years. White hair blew haphazardly from side to side as within Voban's being, a storm of hidden emotions began to brew.

* * *

_"Thou art injured again I see." Using a wet cloth he cleaned the cuts and bruises of the boy who grew up to be a teen. "Thou should stop agitating the Marquis of this land."_

_"Why would you care?" The teen asked while brushing him off with a wave of a hand. The teen turned to look at the ground, his hair casting over his eyes and concealing them within the shadow created. "No one should care about the life of a vagabond orphan who steals for a living."_

_He turned his wise eyes towards the teen. He sighed before placing both of his hands on the teen's shoulder and turning him around to face him. "Thou art never alone in this world. There will always be someone looking out for you whether they be seen or not seen."_

_He stared into the teen's hesitant eyes and saw the flickers of doubt still lingering._

_"...Then what does that make you?" The teen finally asked after a brief moment._

_"Someone who cares." He placed a hand on the teens head and ruffled his hair as he has always done in the past few years of wandering. "Now eat; the food will go cold. We never know when the next meal will come after all."_

_"What about you?" The teen asked while looking at his empty hands._

_"It doesn't matter, I'll find something for myself later." He urged the teen to eat, for he did not need to._

_Briefly the teen smiled before taking the time to actually enjoy the food prepared for him. Savoring it as a warmth filled his heart. A warmth of compassion. A warmth of kindness. A warmth given to him by none other than the man who had saved him. Given him something that he was missing. That which separates human's from solitary animals. Companionship._

* * *

Voban forced the minute trembling of his shoulder's to a halt as his eyes lay glued on the knight. The aura that the knight exuded was familiar to him, and yet his mind refused to process that fact.

A warmth had steadily began to encompass him through his duel with the knight, and in that one moment in time. At the instant of the explosion created by the knight's authority, the unexpected had happened. Throughout the battle, his wolf avatar granted to him by the Authority of Apollo, the heretic god he had slain, had kept the warmth at bay. And yet in his instant of weakness, it had entered him. Enveloped him in a familiar shroud of protection. He was being foolish and internally reprimanded himself. For he had willed away his wolf avatar so as to continue to be exposed to said warmth. A warmth he knew was associated with a solar Authority.

But, the warmth, it...He could not describe the multitude of old feelings suddenly welling up inside him. He was never a sociable individual. In fact, he had no friends. No pleasant acquaintances. Nothing but the undead in which he bound to himself, willing or not. So it was to be expected that he had no experience to fall back onto in the situation presented to him. He fell short. He did not know what to do with the emotions that so rarely surfaced from within him.

His mind shut down, blocking out his thoughts and his emotions; all but his most prominent: intellect, pride, and battle lust. And yet, he unconsciously reached for the warmth; emotions blocked or not. There was something there. Something he longed for. He would find out even if he fought without the use of his wolf avatar. It was after all "defeated." The knight had earned that victory through skill and planning. He would not sully the knight by denouncing the knight's victory to be a fluke. He is the oldest Campione, and he did have his pride.

If there was one thing he was positively sure of, it was fighting. For surely fighting would solve his problems.

* * *

Shirou watched as Voban turned his back towards him and walked a fair distance away before turning back to meet his gaze.

"As much as I enjoyed that conversation; I believe it is time to get things underway." Voban said. The vast blue sky within Camelot darkened; the wind picking up and creating silent ripples in the water.

A scent of fresh ozone created a pungent zing in Shirou's nostrils. A storm was coming. Clouds covered the sky and a shadow fell across the land. Streaks of lightning moved in and out of the nimbus clouds above; their movements erratic and repetitive.

The ground grew damp with the drizzle of rain. The rain drops gathering at the upper most part of grass, and leaves of bushes and trees before dripping down to sink beneath the soil.

Voban took a step forward and in a flash of lightning three majestic silhouettes manifested around him. Each were clad in attire of superior make. Each gave of the feel of warriors; their eyes never leaving Shirou's form.

One was blue. One was red. And the other was green. A trio they were; for each resembled the other in one way or another.

"Bo Feng, Yu Shi, and Lei Gong." Voban said as he extended his right arm forward in Shirou's direction. "Gods of weather."

Voban's shoulders trembled as he let out a small laugh.

"You should know what that means."

Sparks began gathering at Voban's extended hand before igniting and becoming an orb of pure lightning.

"Prepare yourself God of Steel."

A crack of thunder sounded up in the air as Shirou charged at Voban in hopes of subduing him before he could utilize his authority. And yet he knew that he was already too late and decided to prepare for a frontal assault.

The ball in Voban's extended hand was misleading however. in fact, the attack had not come from the expected front, but above him from the sky.

Pain shot through him as lightning flowed through his armor and electrified him; the armor being steel, a good conductor, not working in his favor. The smell of burnt flesh permeated through the air as Shirou laid smoking in a crater created from the blast of lightning. Dirt covered him, his limbs buried beneath it. Shakily, he stood up; the dirt falling off of him and forming a pile on the ground. His body ached all over; his muscles still tense from conducting electricity.

Shirou faced Voban who stood by the edge of the crater staring at him as the wounds he had been inflicted visibly healed. This wasn't the first time that Shirou found himself being thankful to his father Kiritsugu Emiya for implanting Avalon in him; the sheath having saved him numerous times on various occasions. And even now it had saved him again due to remaining active because of Arthur's presence.

"Passive regeneration I see." Voban muttered to himself as his eyes analyzed Shirou. "A troublesome ability."

Shirou stood fully recovered as he decided to retake the initiative. With a leap he landed out of the crater and made a beeline for Voban who retaliated by raising his palm again.

Lightning descended on Shirou as he weaved past the strikes that singed and pulverized the ground. Dirt flew everywhere as smoke joined with it and created a mosaic like miasma that scratched against the skin. Be that as it may, Shirou did not care as he pushed on through.

One particular shot of lightning grazed him and sent him spiraling to the left, but he managed to re-orientate himself and continue on with determination. It did not matter how many bolts of lightning the man threw at him. Shirou would reach him without doubt.

As Shirou drew near, a ginormous axe-sword appeared in his hand. It was not the average axe-sword for its length was larger than Shirou's body, and its composition did not seem to be made of fine metal, but rather of rock and earth. Similarly, it was not designed for the purpose of presentation, but of practicality. A practicality in which it excelled at.

With a burst of speed, Shirou was in range of Voban who raised an arm in defense. Subsequently, Shirou made eye contact with Voban's eyes.

"Eyes Of Sodom!" Voban yelled out as his eyes grew a deep green.

**Nine Lives Blade Works!**

Nine strikes. Each aimed for nine particular targets: the upper arm, collarbone, windpipe, temple, diaphragm, rib, testicles, thighs, and head simultaneously at "godspeed" faster than the speed of sound. Each blow with the power to crush a man ten fold. To grind their bones to dust as it inflicts blunt force trauma and lacerations from the serrated black edge of the blade. For all of its power, it simply had no name. It wasn't even considered a noble phantasm even though it possessed equal power to one. For though its power, its ability, stems from the Heroic Spirit Hercules, it is only but a terrifying technique. A technique befitting Hercules, the man who completed the twelve labours:

Slay the Nemean Lion.

Slay the nine-headed Lernaean Hydra.

Capture the Golden Hind of Artemis.

Capture the Erymanthian Boar.

Clean the Augean stables in a single day.

Slay the Stymphalian Birds.

Capture the Cretan Bull.

Steal the Mares of Diomedes.

Obtain the girdle of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons.

Obtain the cattle of the monster Geryon.

Steal the apples of the Hesperides.

Capture and bring back Cerberus.

Each labour was an arduous task and yet Hercules completed them all.

It was the slaying of the hydra in particular that gave birth to the technique, "Nine Lives." A technique granted to Shirou after structurally analyzing the axe-sword in which Hercules used. However, what Shirou knew was a only but a variation of "Nine Lives." be that as it may now found that he could now utilize the ninth strike in "Nine Lives Blade Works," whereas before he could only utilize eight strikes due to his body's limitations.

Shirou froze momentarily in shock as his arm wielding the axe-sword began to petrify, turning into salt for but a moment. Be that as it may, his activation of "Nine Lives Blade Works," was not cancelled, just hindered. That hindrance however had altered the speed of Shirou's attack.

The first blow had been quicker than the rest and so that first blow had saved Voban from the other eight debilitating strikes; as a result of the first blow sending him flying.

The tuxedo in which Voban wore, tore and ripped beyond recognition as he flew. Pieces of fabric fluttered haphazardly in the air as they sailed towards the ground.

As Voban rolled and tumbled over the vast expanse of Camelot, a rigid blue scarf fell from the tear in the man's tuxedo. The scarf was worn, old even; its deep blue already fading with the years. It caught in a branch of a tree and ripped in half due to the force in which the man was moving.

Shirou watched as Voban's eyes, even though he was still crashing through numerous obstacles remained on the torn scarf as it drifted to the ground.

* * *

_"Here." The teen said as he gave him a rigid blue scarf. It wasn't really much in appearance, but it would serve its purpose. "It's not much, but it will help keep you warm."_

_"My thanks." He said as he took the scarf in his hands and stared at it._

_"As fellow wanderers we have to look out for ourselves." The teen said as he looked ahead at the path in which they were walking on. From the tone of his voice, one could tell of the hesitation in which the teen possessed._

_Was the scarf not good enough? Should he have focused on something bigger? The teen questioned himself as he noticed that the man he was talking to had still yet to answer._

_"...Yes, as fellow wanderers." He draped the blue scarf over his neck. Something in which the teen saw._

_The teen smiled while taking his hand to urge him to go faster. After all, it wasn't every day that charity groups gave out food. Moreover he had only ever been feeding the teen scavenged food, for he would not stoop himself to steal._

* * *

The sky grew darker. The wind became a tempest that threatened to uproot anything in sight. Thunder claps echoed for miles on end as lightning constantly struck at the ground. The world literally shook as Voban took up the pieces of the blue scarf in his hands and cradled it to his person. His eyes narrowed into fiery slits as he stared at Shirou. There would be hell to pay.

His arms burst out with fur as Voban returned into a beast. This time however, he was not as large, choosing instead to remain around two-and-a-half-meters in height. The beast now resembled a werewolf; for it stood upright with its hind legs.

"...You," Voban rasped in a hushed voice. The two halves of the blue scarf shook as the Voban's arms trembled minutely. "HOW DARE YOU!"

The clouds parted as a searing heat became apparent. Temperatures rose, the water in the lake began to bubble as steam hissed and began evaporating. A great fire began descending from the sky; its heat comparable to that of numerous suns. This was a flame meant for utter destruction. Utter eradication of life. This was a flame that can even incinerate gods.

As if responding to the Voban's fury, the mass of flame doubled in size; easily able to encompass a city, and it had yet to stop.

Breathing started to become laboured, the oxygen in the air depleting to fuel the massive flame.

Shirou stared at the approaching danger as sweat dripped from his brow. His armor clanked as he steeled himself.

_"Arthur."_ Shirou prompted.

**"Already on it."**

Information began flowing through Shirou's head. Vast as it was, Shirou zeroed in on the necessary information and grasped it. Looking at it for what it was. What it will forever be.

Judging the concept of creation...

Hypothesizing the basic structure...

Duplicating the composition material...

Imitating the skill of its making...

Sympathizing with the experience of its growth...

Reproducing the accumulated years...

Excelling every manufacturing process...

Through each step, the weapon became more and more clear until it began to take form; its shape already manifesting in Shirou's hands.

"Trace on."

* * *

"Dear Lord." Andrea Rivera said as he began to panic while staring up at the sky; for it was dyed a crimson red. The Witches and Himo-Miko too, were beginning to panic; A couple of them even dropped to their knee's in apparent despair as the mass of flame neared them. Tears glistened in their eyes before cascading down their cheeks and onto the ground. They had been through far to much for any sane person to endure.

"Mr. Andrea." Liliana said as she rushed to Andrea. "Do you not possess any means to protect us?" Liliana had a frantic look on her face as she was constantly reminded more and more of the coming danger from the increased wails of sorrow around her. "You are a Great Knight after all."

Andrea opened his mouth to speak, but was beaten to it by the sound of another voice who's tone was one of complete calm.

"Fear not for thou art under the protection of mine king." An apparition of a knight said; its form slightly transparent as if it did not have the means to fully materialize. And yet it stood on two armored legs that were sleek and black in colour like the full set of armor in which it wore.

Andrea tensed and stared warily at the stranger that had appeared; the other Hime-Miko and Witches doing much the same.

The transparent knight looked up at the sky of flames before turning back to face the others. "Such a flame should produce higher temperature should it not?"

Now that Andrea thought about it, it should. Confusion began to descend within the crowd of Hime-Miko and Witches before it began turning into relief. Relief that was shattered as the mass of fire drew near.

"There is nothing to fear." The transparent knight said again. "Thou art under the protection of mine king."

Subsequently, a great light comparable to that of the sun illuminated the area. Shadows formed from the castle walls and loomed over head as all were temporarily blinded by its brilliance. And yet the light was but a counter product of its true nature, a devastating attack.

* * *

Shirou stabbed the holy sword in which he traced into the ground; its blade so sharp that it had no trouble digging through the rough dirt. The sword was pristine; giving off an air of radiance even as the world was dyed in deep orange. It simply maintained its appearance; the light from the fire over head doing nothing to hinder it.

At the base of the white tinted sword was a blue and silver hilt that seemed to emit light as if it contained it within.

Shirou nodded his head as he had made his preparations. Briefly, he willingly let himself drift within the conscience of his mind as he felt Arthur taking his place as the one in control.

Red hair with a few strands of blond turned completely blond with a few strands of red as amber eyes turned teal.

Arthur now had control of the body as Shirou took residence within his reality marble; he watching from within.

Arthur took a step towards the sword he and Shirou had projected and raised a hand to his chest while staring intently at said sword. A divine aura erupted from Arthur and burst out into the surroundings. The gentle yellow of Arthur's aura giving a stark contrast to the raging flames above.

"Oh holy knight of the sun. Who's strength slew armies. Who's loyalty never wavered even till my mine end. The friend of young knights. A defender of the people. Thy king calls upon thee to aid me once again." Arthur paused briefly and raised his gaze to bare witness to the majesty of the castle of Camelot before turning back to face the traced sword. "As a knight of the round! Answer the call of thy king!"

A shock wave of wind blew out; Arthur acting as its epicenter as the force generated by the winds blew any loose debris away. A transparent figure appeared and knelt towards Arthur; an arm was crossed over its body in a form of respect.

"Rise and take thy blade."

The figure rose and reached a hand for the handle of the traced sword. As the hand drew nearer to the sword, one could begin to make out the armour in which the figure wore.

An armoured hand griped the handle of the traced sword and in one swift motion, lifted it above a white armor plated shoulder.

"Knight Gawain answers thy call mine king." Gawain said as he peered intently at the traced blade.

"My King is this..." Gawain made a motion towards the traced sword.

"No, it is but a copy."

"A copy?" Gawain lifted the sword to his eye level. "Truly?"

Arthur nodded his head and cut straight to the chase. "I ask of thee to deal with the situation."

Gawain nodded in acknowledgment as he continued to stare at the blade in his hand. Tucking the blade to his side, Gawain knelt. "Be it man, beast, or demon, nothing will get in my way."

In a flash, Gawain stood up and faced the sky. An aura of power began surrounding him and converging at one point, the base of the traced sword. Soon after an additional blue energy soon flowed into Gawain as his attribute as the Knight of Maidens kicked in. For behind him lay the kingdom of Camelot that was housing the group of Hime-Miko and Witches. To add fuel to Gawain's growing aura, behind him also stood his king.

Placing both hands on the hilt of the traced sword, he brought his right foot forward. Dazzling light, comparable to that of the sun spewed forth from the traced blade. The earth around Gawain began to char as more and more energy channeled itself through said blade.

In one fluid motion, Gawain tossed the traced blade with a great heave of his arms into the sky. The traced blade stopped in the air as it produced a miniature sun that emitted dazzlingly bright rays of light. After a moment, the traced sword fell back into Gawains grasp. As Gawain draws the sword behind his back, an immense magic circle appeared around him with an image of a sun that could clearly be seen from within.

In one swift motion, Gawain swung with a motion like drawing a sword at the sky.

"Excalibur Galatine!"

All the pent up energy of the miniature sun over head was released in an attack that was not linear, but a wave of destructive energy. Energy in the form of fire; a super nova of heat comparable to the hell fire descending from the sky. Fire fell from the sky as another fire rose from the ground. One was larger, able encompass entire cities; the other was more concentrated, potent in its energy that spanned an area of three kilometers; blasting out in a broad wave, radiation attack that had the capability to annihilate entire armies.

The two fires clashed for dominance in the sky; the smaller fire, piercing a large hole into the other and erupting into a giant ball of fire that created a vortex in the air which spewed fire every where but the castle of Camelot.

The remaining fire that descended towards the ground scorched the very earth so much so that hard rocks began melting; flowing across the ground like magma and incinerating any living thing that may have survived. The area had become hell on earth except for the area in which the castle of Camelot stood.

* * *

"What a show off." The transparent knight said as it looked over Camelots walls along with the Hime-Miko, Witches, and Andrea who stood speechless. After all it wasn't very often that one could witness a battle between a Campione and a god without any repercussions.

"As I said," The transparent knight turned to face the others near him who still stood gawking. "You are under the protection of mine king."

Wordlessly, the transparent knight turned away from the group and walked back into the inner workings of the castle of Camelot. He walked fully knowing his destination near the heart of the castle; a room reserved for a knight such as he. After navigating through multiple corridors and grand hall-ways, he reached a large set of double doors; their wood, a dark coloured heavy oak with rings as door knobs. Upon reaching the door, he pushed it open to reveal a grand room, decorated with fine tapestries and maps for tactical strategy making.

In the center of the room was a large round table filled with other transparent knights. He strode to an open seat and sat down, his head held high, awaiting the summons of his king.

* * *

"It is done my king." Gawain said as he turned to face Arthur.

"Well done." Arthur said with a nod before he noticed Gawain's questioning gaze.

"Thou seems different my king." Gawain said as he felt the presence of Arthur. "The curse no longer effects thee."

"Yes, thou should already know the circumstances." Arthur said to Gawain as he stared warily at the burnt field where he last saw his opponent.

"That I do my king, but seeing is believing." Gawain said as he leaned against Excalibur Galatine that was pierced into the ground. "Doth thou require me to deal with that as well?" Gawain motioned towards Voban who appeared staring across from them a fair distance off.

"No, this is my duel." Arthur stared across at Gawain. "Thou should know that it would be cowardly to have thee fight in mine place."

"Understood my king," Gawain took a glance down at Excalibur Galatine. "Might I keep this sword? it seems to complete a piece of me; granting me the ability to take physical form."

_"What do you think Shirou?"_ Arthur asked.

**"It's fine with me. It's not like it would cause much harm."** Shirou said.

"Very well Gawain, thou may keep the blade." Gawain nodded quite pleasantly as Voban charged at Arthur across the scorched field. "I bid thee farewell mine king."

Gawain vanished in a shower of light. Leaving Arthur to face the approaching Voban alone.

* * *

A moment passed as Gawain entered the room within the heart of Camelot. The room that contained the knights of the round. Different from the rest, he was no longer transparent as if Exaclibur Galatine, the sword by his side gave him a tie to the physical world. Such a thing made the other knights in the room increasingly confused and surprised.

"That blade." A transparent knight said. "I know that blade."

"As you should," Another transparent knight said. "Its power is not one that can simply be copied." The transparent knight turned towards Gawain. "Excalibur Galatine, the real blade?"

"No," Gawain said. "A copy as said by our king." Gawain looked around at the shocked faces of the other transparent knights. "It feels exactly like mine blade, and yet this blade did not take form by my will, my legend. But from the physical world as if mine blade had existed there all along."

"Such a thing should be impossible." A transparent knight said as it rubbed a thumb against its chin.

"And yet the impossible is in front of thy eyes." Another transparent knight said as it motioned for Gawain to take his seat.

"Is it really much of a surprise that our king can do the impossible?" The same transparent knight said.

There were no words to rebut the statement. All were in agreement.

"My question," Another transparent knight said. "Is this friend that our king hath spoken of."

"I concur." Another transparent knight said. "I grow curious how this friend hath stopped the curse of the heretic god."

"Our king trusts him, and as with our loyalty, we trust in our king's judgment." A transparent knight said resolutely.

No words were said, just resolute nods.

* * *

Voban charged across the expanse of scorched earth even as he realized that he had reverted into his wolf form. In that moment when the blue scarf, all that he had left of that particular man was torn in two, his mind had went blank as his anger erupted from the very bowls of his being. He would crush the two knights in front of him until nothing was left but two bloody mounds of meat.

He watched as the knight who had blocked his red punishment attack, vanished from sight; leaving him with only one target. The target of his rage.

upon arrival however, he reeled back in shock as a familiar pair of teal eyes stared questioningly at him. It wasn't long before his anger returned ten-fold as his mind refused to believe what was in front of him. There could only be one explanation.

* * *

"You dare imitate him!" Voban reverted back into a man. His suit was still torn as blood dripped down his torso. His eyes filled with blood lust as he stared at Arthur as if he was seeing a ghost. "You dare imitate Thurra!"

Arthur looked clearly at Voban as a final memory played through his head.

* * *

_"It hath been seven years since we met child and thou still hast not told me of thy name." He said as he peered at the teen to his left. "Doth thou not trust me?"_

_"...Call me Sasha." The boy said after a while; his face turning a shade of red._

_He smiled as the boy tried futilely to hide his embarrassment._

_"Thou may call me Thurra." He said as a reflection of his appearance could be seen on the teen's eyes. Blond hair, teal eyes, a blue scarf, and the dirty rags that covered him. Dirty rags that represented his many years of wandering. His clothing beneath the rags were not visible._

* * *

"...Sasha." Arthur whispered under his breath. "What has happened to you?"

**"Something wrong Arthur?"** Shirou inquired as he heard Arthur muttering something.

_"No. 'Twas but a memory."_ The memory ran itself again within Arthur's mind. _"A memory of a boy I had once known..."_ Arthur stared at Sasha, the boy of his past before making up his mind. _"Shirou, will thou let me face him?"_

**"I don't see why not."**

Arthur made a motion towards Sasha and spoke. "Sasha-"

"Don't call me by that name as if you know me!" Sasha lashed out. "My name is Voban." Voban narrowed his eyes on Arthur. "There is only one who could call me by that name and your not him. He died centuries ago."

"It's me, Thurra." Arthur insisted as he brought an arm to his chest.

"Your not him." Voban insisted as a wild look seemed to enter his eyes. "And I, I will end you!"

Arthur stared downcast at the ground before he solidified his resolve. A fight was inevitable.

"Then I will prove it to thee that I am who I say I am." Arthur took up his sword and readied his stance as Voban glared at him.

Tensions rose between the two of them before a burnt tree toppled to the ground; signaling in the beginning of another battle.

* * *

Information on Noble phantasms from the Fate Wiki, and Souvikundo.

Details about Camelots effects will be explained as the series goes.

As for why the update took so long, I'm afraid that it's because of what we all know as the institution of learning.

On another note, for those of you who are following my other story, I have deleted a few chapters as I myself did not like the way things were going.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Fate series or Campione!

-Thanks for reading


	5. Chapter 5

_Why? Why hath thou changed so much?_

Arthur rose from the ground, the dirt rolling off his armor as he stood.

_ The boy I knew..._

"The boy I knew was not this!" Arthur yelled as the undead swarmed him in droves. "Thou has enslaved the innocent! Kept them away from the peace of the after life!"

"You know nothing!" Voban roared while lightning striked down from the sky and cratered the ground. "That man, he was the only man I ever cared for; the only one I grew to see as my friend! And you, you would impersonate him!"

"I am him!" Arthur yelled as he struck down the undead around him.

Voban's eyes narrowed in hate and self loathing.

"I saw him die! Saw him bleeding as he was dragged away from me!" Voban tackled Arthur to the ground, his teal eyes meeting Voban's. "You are not him!"

A blow to Arthur's face cratered the ground under him; creating hairline fractures that crawled outwards. Pain sprouted throughout his body like a snake's venom. Arthur kicked out even as his head endured severe whiplash and forced Voban off of him. Blood dripped out of his mouth as he wiped his face clean.

"Mother Teresa, do you remember her?" Arthur said persistently.

Voban froze mid-step.

"The woman who often gave us food. Helped me teach you arithmetic in her spare time." Arthur paused momentarily before recommencing. "The w-"

"Enough with your lies!" Voban cratered the ground under him with the aura he exuded. "Enough with your reading of my mind!" Lightning shot behind Voban as the winds picked up.

_Shasha...Is this all my fault._ Arthur thought as he watched Voban drowning himself within the power of the Authorities he had obtained. Watched as the boy he knew ran away from the pain of loss and grief.

Arthur gripped hard on the hilt of his sword before letting it dip down towards the earth.

_Is it all my fault..._ Arthur closed his eyes as a bolt of lightning struck and dyed the scenery white with the flash of electricity.

* * *

"No!" Mariya Yuri yelled along with the other Hime-Miko and Witches. "No..." Their voices began to fade out as their faces paled and their eyes remained glued to the battle.

* * *

Arthur's arms slack, his grip now loose, he tossed his sword into the air just as Voban's strike had been close enough to hit him; drawing the electricity from the blast of lightning. Arthur exhaled and resolved himself to the inevitable.

Vivid teal eyes, like the green of morning grass, flickered open.

Armored hands clenched, creating the sound of grating steel.

Arthur charged, willing his sword back into his hands after it discharged the electricity into the ground. There was no longer any turning back. He could no longer falter in the face of a dear acquaintance. _I'm sorry Sasha, but I can't lose here._

Steel met flesh. Blood showered the air in an arc of vermilion that stained the gravel.

Voban cried out in pain as an edge of a blade cut through his thick fur. With a pained grimace, Voban retaliated with a slash of his claws.

Not missing a beat, Arthur ducked under Voban's claws and pushed his advantage. Slash after bloody slash, Arthur pushed Voban back; the sound of heavy strained breathing filling the air.

Huff after huff, Voban wheezed out.

Blow after blow Arthur felt more and more of Voban's bones grating, cracking, fragmenting under the force of his blade.

With a kick of his foot, Arthur pushed off the ground and pierced through Voban's shoulder.

A loud howl soared throughout the battle-field.

"Stop this! I do not wish to end thee!" Arthur yelled as Voban continued to fight back.

A claw clipped the side of Arthur's face and forced his blade out of Voban's shoulder.

Wordlessly, Voban jumped back as a wall of undead and wolves surrounded him.

Steadying himself from the blow to his head, Arthur began to mow down the enemies around him. A slash cleaved an undead mage in two; a pierce sent wolves and undead alike, back from whence they came. It was a cycle that did not seem to have an end.

**"Let me help."** Shirou said. **"Trace on!"**

In a flurry of silver, the air was once again dyed by the steel of weaponry of all kinds. Some were legendary looking in make, as others seemed less so.

"My thanks. I have not yet mastered thy particular technique."

"No problem."

The weaponry around Arthur shook before they shot down and held off the crowd of undead and wolves.

Arthur walked solemnly towards Voban who was clutching at his injured shoulder. Words began piling up behind his mouth as he tried to find a way to make Voban see reason, realize his wrongs, and change for the better. None he soon realized, would be useful.

Arthur drew his blade, blood dripped down its shaft and trickled on the remains of the grass below. Reluctantly, he struck down as Voban's eyes met his.

* * *

_A seven year old Sasha peered at him and extended out a hand while smiling happily at his direction._

_ He patted Sasha's head and continued on after grasping Sasha's hand._

* * *

The edge of Arthur's blade stopped as it drew blood from Voban's neck.

Capitalizing on the opportunity, Voban placed a hand on Arthur's armor and released a bolt of lightning that sent him flying.

The world spun around Arthur as he lost his sense of balance.

"Mercy will get you nowhere, God of Steel." The wound on Voban's shoulder healed; new pink healthy skin growing to replace the broken old. "You will only regret it."

A tree broke Arthur's fall; the branches acting like stoppers to slow him down. Smoke sizzled from his chest-plate as he grunted.

A flash of light, another bolt of lightning. Arthur rolled away just as the spot he was in exploded in a shower of electrical sparks.

Looking up from his position still on the ground, Arthur realized that a vast distance had been made between him and Voban who was pelting him with lightning. Something he knew that he would have to rectify.

In a burst of god speed, the distance was rendered null and void.

Voban choked on his breath as an armored fist struck him square in the diaphragm.

"Mercy is what separates warriors from tyrants." Arthur's eyes narrowed in disappointment. "Mercy is something I believed I taught you!"

Arthur pulled his fist back and swung down with the blade in his right hand. Only for Voban to grab Arthur's blade arm and toss him to the side.

"Mercy is why that man died!" Voban yelled in fury. "Mercy is something I will not do again!"

Arthur laughed hollowly.

"Then that man must surely be disappointed in you." Arthur said as he gave up trying to persuade Voban of his identity. "Disappointed that you would desecrate his teachings."

"You have no right to speak of that man!" Voban grabbed Arthur in a burst of speed and hoisted him up by the collar of his blue inner attire.

Arthur smiled down at Voban. "I don't care."

A kick to Voban's face released Arthur from Voban's hold.

"Lesson five," Arthur said. "Never let thy guard down, remember."

Voban's eyes widened momentarily in shock.

Had Arthur gotten through to Sasha? Arthur did not know.

"Enough of your nonsense." Voban said as he swiped an arm to the side. "We fight till the death."

Arthur nodded solemnly, there would be no turning back.

"A man must put his all into what he has decided to do." He said as he took his stance. "I shall respond in full to thy wish."

One second Arthur was there, the next he was gone.

Voban's eyes widened as he defended a blow to his mid body.

Hack, thrust, side step, and parry, the battle raged on. Blows that would certainly kill lesser men were exchanged in a flurry of rapid movement. The earth became a barren field wherever they went. Trees were uprooted, the lake in which they fell on was obliterated due to their combined aura; all that remained was a lake bed filled with the corpses of fish, and lake life.

"Die!"

Arthur dodged a blow to his liver, and using his circular momentum struck back with the force of over a hundred metric tons.

Voban was blown away, and like a meteorite created a dragged out tear into the earth. Subsequently, a shower of massive rocks spewed out towards Camelots walls.

The air around Camelot shimmered as a sheen of transparent flimsy material seemed to erect itself around the kingdom. Like a barrier, it deflected the massive rocks away.

Arthur breathed in deeply as he began recovering from his sudden use of his divinity.

A hand entered Arthur's peripheral vision and before he knew it, his face was being dragged across the ground. He felts cuts and bruises forming as he grabbed at something and used it as a hand-hold.

Arthur was sure that he heard the definite snap of whatever it was that he was holding before he found himself flying across the air and up into the raging sky. Rain pelted across his face, the turbulent winds tossing him around and doing little to help him re-orientate himself. Before he knew it, he had blown straight passed the clouds.

Up above Arthur was the familiar blue sky and sun, and yet there was something that drew his attention; he saw the beginnings of a moon rising from the distant horizon. His eyes narrowed in apprehension.

A blast of lightning jolted Arthur back into action.

Arthur pivoted on his center of mass, and used his instinct to maneuver to the left. Far from simply dodging the strike of lightning, he had propelled himself towards the direction in which it came.

In a streak of silver, blue, and gold, Arthur brandished his blade and shot a burst of aura down to his feet; further increasing his descending speed.

Voban's eyes widened in alarm.

A bang like none other, rippled across the land; the very impact triggering large scale seismic activity.

As the dust from the subsequent explosion cleared, Arthur stood tall, his blade poised ready to strike at the downed Voban.

"Do what you will, you have won." Voban said as he coughed blood out of his mouth. Voban's form was back to that of a man, and he lay sprawled on the ground.

Arthur remained standing, observing. Numerous thoughts crossed his mind as he stared at Voban. Thoughts of better times when he had traveled across the world, and of the boy he had met.

Arthur lowered his sword.

"This is not how it will end." Arthur said. "Stand up, I know of thy will. I know of thy determination."

Wordlessly, Voban lifted his head as he met Arthur's gaze.

"I can tell from thy eyes that thou art not a coward who would run away from life, no; thy eyes tell me a different story." Arthur said.

Voban's face froze, his mouth quivering.

A quite calm descended across the ravaged battle-field as a gentle breeze blew past. The skies were once again clear, the radiant rays of sunlight illuminating the world.

Voban released a strained grunt as he forced himself back onto his feet.

Voban didn't speak, just stared boldly at Arthur. No words could describe the way in which Voban's gaze seemed to convey all of his pent up emotions, frustrations, and doubts.

"Come and let me witness thy will and fortitude!" Arthur urged Voban on.

Standing there bruised and battered, Voban lifted up his arms once more for one final bout.

"Then I fear that there will be nothing left for you to witness." Voban replied as a wound on his chest burst out in a spray of blood which caused his already pale skin to become even paler. "After all, you will no longer exist."

"Big words for one so injured." Arthur lowered his center of gravity as he fell into a forward crouch.

"That coming from a such a self righteous bastard as you." Voban replied back as he too fell into a forward crouch.

"I prefer chivalrous." Arthur sheathed his sword in its scabbard.

Voban smirked. "That's not a remark that I have heard in a very long time..."

"It's to be expected. Human's have digressed from the ways of the knight."

"Hmph, yes," Voban wiped away the blood that had drizzled past his eye. "The ways of the knight."

They looked across from each other, and in the next instant they surged towards the other. Their clothes whipped behind their backs, their strides dented the dirt under them.

With a battle cry, Voban punched Arthur in the face, bruising his bottom lip.

Not to be out done, Arthur struck back with a punch of his own to Voban's diaphragm.

Punch after punch, they struck each other. Each now sported visible bruises that grew darker the more times they were repetitively hit.

Gone was the need for skill and tactics. For the fight had simply just degenerated into a drunkards brawl.

Arthur dodged a punch to his face. "Where art thou aiming?" Arthur said as the bruises on his body began healing over.

Voban scoffed.

A blow to his chest sent Arthur back a few paces.

The two stared at one another again.

Voban could barely stand, let alone continue to fight. Arthur on the other hand, was healed due to the effects of Avalon.

Arthur smirked as he opened his hand to reveal two halves of a blue scarf.

In a burst of gold, the scarf was repaired.

"Y-You."

Arthur wrapped the scarf around his neck, the two ends drifting along with the wind. He felt a part of himself seem to complete. A part of himself that he knew brought about memories of regret. And yet he also knew that he must face them.

Arthur stood tall, and peered at Voban.

"Problem?"

Voban sighed in exhaustion. "Your really Thurra aren't you?"

"And thou art still the boy I met centuries ago."

"I'm afraid not." Voban's knees buckled and he began to fall.

Wordlessly, Arthur appeared to support Voban.

Voban looked at Arthur. "I have done to much wrong." Voban brought a hand to his mouth as he began coughing out blood.

"Wrongs can be forgiven." Arthur said.

"Not when they involve the destruction of countries, of the innocent who dwelt in them." Voban grimaced as he realized that he was losing more and more blood.

Voban pushed Arthur away with a great heave of an arm. "The fight," Voban began as he one again produced the use of his Authorities. Lightning spewed forth from his arms, but the sky did not darken with clouds. "It was to the death."

"It does not have to be that way." Arthur argued. "Thou can atone for thy sin."

"Atone for the lives of millions. Make peace for all the families I've destroyed." Voban laughed bitterly.

"Yes." Arthur simply said.

Voban paused as Arthur regarded him. The silence was like that of a Western showdown.

"You're being a hypocrite." Voban said at last. "You said that you would respond in full to my wish."

"But I also said that a man must put his all into what he has decided to do." Arthur took a stance. "And for me, that is to save thee."

"Then you know what must be done old friend." Voban brought both of his hands into the air and began producing a massive ball of electricity. Electrical sparks shot off at random directions and created crackling noises.

For a moment Arthur stood motionless, his mind deciphering what Voban was insinuating. A hundredth of a second passed. His breath hitched, his body tensed, but he could not find it within himself to refuse Voban's final wish. He drew his sword once more. Power gushing through it as an aura of gentle white emitted into the air around him.

Arthur took a step forward followed by another, before charging at Voban.

With a heave, Voban tossed the construct of electricity at Arthur; glass formed from the dirt below as it neared.

Arthur did not swerve. Nor did he defend himself.

The ball of electricity struck Arthur as he swung out his sword.

An explosion rocked the battle-field as the electricity discharged and met the edge of his blade.

* * *

Liliana covered her eyes as turbulent winds whipped over head. A large shroom cloud of dust and debris shot up into the air.

She took cover behind a nearby construct of oaken material as a shock wave kicked in. Others around her took cover behind other constructs.

"That's quite a blast." Andrea said as he took cover behind her.

"Yeah." She said.

Her hair whipped back and forth as she tried uselessly to hold it down.

Suddenly, the area around her begins distorting as the familiar room in which she had been locked in began to appear.

* * *

Arthur looked around solemnly at the waste land around him. There was no trace of life what so ever.

Arthur gripped at the blue scarf hanging around his neck and pulled such that it unwrapped itself from him. He stared at it; looking at the way the rough wool ends wrapped around his fingers.

**"Arthur..."** Shirou said.

"It's over." Arthur re-wrapped the scarf around his neck and released his hold on the world.

Like the paint of a peeling wall, the scenery around him began distorting back into what it had been before.

Arthur closed his eyes and felt himself drift.

Opening them again, Arthur found himself back in a familiar world of blades. Sitting down next to the sword he found to be the most familiar, he brought a hand over his head and clenched his other hand into a tight fist that struck the ground again and again. He had failed to save what was most important; for in saving Voban, he had taken away Voban's life.

_...What have I done?..._

The sounds of repeated thudding could be heard echoing within the world of blades for miles on end.

* * *

Shirou found himself back in control of his body. He peered down at the remains of the breaking world around him and payed his respects to the man that Arthur had called friend.

The earth under Shirou returned to polished tile as he stared at the group of Witches and Hime-Miko he had saved. On further inspection, he found the addition of a bespectacled man.

Shirou walked forward towards a girl who lay unresponsive on the ground. The girls eyes were glazed over as if life had already left her. Carefully, he placed a hand under her head and positioned her over his knee. Without a moment to waste he projected a copy of Avalon and placed it within the girl.

Hushed gasps spread throughout the room as the girl's complexion visibly returned along with the life in her eyes.

Seeing that his work was done, Shirou gently helped the girl up to her feet and gestured for her to join the group of other women.

* * *

"You're safe." Mariya heard the knight say.

As if a flood gate had been broken, tears welled up in her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. Nothing could describe the amount of gratitude residing within her.

Similarly, the others around her burst into relieved tears. Some even falling to their knees as they were finally clear from danger.

"We're saved." A Witch a year or two younger then her whispered, before she burst out laughing in joy. "We're saved!"

Mariya didn't so much as join in on all the cheering, she was never really an outspoken kind of person. She did however wanted to show her gratitude, but did not know how.

"Yay! Yay! Were saved!" Yelled a blond haired man who appeared celebrating within the group of Hime-Miko and Witches. He wore an open blue polo and had a pair of black sunglasses over his head.

"You!" Mariya heard Andrea yell as he marched over to the blond haired man.

"Yo!" The blond haired man said nonchalantly with a wave of his hand.

"Yo? That's all you have to say to me?" Andrea said as a tick mark formed on his head.

"Yeah." The blond haired man shrugged before a look of realization crossed his face. The man took out what looked like a bottle of sunscreen and tossed it to Andrea. "I forgot to give this to you when you left for the beaches on that truck a while back."

A dark look spread across Andrea's face as he held on to the sunscreen the man had given him.

The man walked past Andrea and towards the knight watching the proceeding occurring.

"So you defeated the old man?" The blond said.

The knight nodded his head and seemed to stare warily at the blond.

"Such a shame, he was a fun opponent." The blond raised a hand in greeting. "Salvator Doni."

_Salvator Doni,_ Mariya thought before her eyes widened in understanding. _The sixth Campione!_

"Shirou." The knight said simply as he took Doni's hand in greeting.

Doni smiled as he released his hand from Shirou's.

Unexpectedly, Doni slung an arm over Shirou's shoulder.

"Hey," Doni said as his eyes narrowed in challenge. "I want a duel."

"No." Shirou said as he removed Doni's arm off of his shoulder and proceeded to leave.

Mariya and the others watched apprehensively at the scene unfolding.

Shirou had only taken but a mere four steps before Doni appeared in front of him.

"Hey," Doni said with a smile on his face. "I want a duel."

"No thanks." Shirou refused again and walked past Doni.

Doni's demeanor changed as he watched Shirou leaving.

Andrea placed a hand on Doni's shoulder and shook his head.

"We owe him a debt." Andrea whispered into Doni's ear. "Besides, you would fight with one who may have already exhausted their power before hand?"

Doni sighed, but a mischievous look soon adorned his face. "Then I won't face him in a duel of Authority." Doni separated himself from Andrea who stood taken aback at Doni's logic.

Brandishing his sword, Doni yet again stood in the way of Shirou.

"I won't let you leave till you face me." Doni declared his sword now positioned over his shoulder.

Shirou's face became blank as Doni was forcing his hand. Be that as it may, a memory of knightly conduct Arthur had imparted to him flowed through his mind just at that moment.

"What are your terms?" Shirou asked.

Doni's excitement seemed to rocket upon hearing Shirou's words.

Doni raised his sword for all to be seen. "First blood. No Authorities."

Shirou raised an eyebrow.

"It will be a duel of sword skill." Doni finished.

"Why would you think I would use a sword?" Shirou asked as he motioned to his person. There was no form of weaponry on him. Just the armor in which he wore.

Doni pointed towards the slash marks on the ground by the destroyed ritual seal.

Shirou turned his attention to said marks and sighed before facing back to Doni.

"Very well." Shirou said as he took a stance. "First blood."

In a burst of light particles, a hundred-and-fifty-centimeter long blade appeared in Shirou's hand.

* * *

I'd like to ask if readers prefer this kind of writing for battle scenes, or the way in which I wrote it in the previous chapter. Also, feel free to give some tips if you want to. I am after all still in the process of learning to improve my writing.

But dang. This is finally over. I can continue with my plot!

There will be a short time skip next chapter.

I don't own the fate or Campione series.

**Special thanks to souvikkundu0017 **

Am I forgetting anything...Whatever.

Thanks for reading.


	6. A Purpose

Shirou never really considered the fame that he would gain upon defeating both the Marquis Voban and Salvator Doni in a duel. Nor did he consider finding himself being pursued tirelessly by what he could only assume to be magic organizations across the continent. No, he most definitely was not having a good day. Perhaps it would have been better for him to have started off low on the radar, but he could no longer change things as they were now. He sighed, something he would often find himself doing after passing through another town where he was once again called 'the Wandering Saint.' Really? A saint? Him? He was only doing what he knew was right. If that right meant curing an incurable disease, saving people from the brink of death, or producing food out of scraps, then so be it.

Carefully, he pushed himself off of the ground he was lying on to avoid detection from a man wearing a suit and monocle over his face. One would think that after four consecutive getaways that the man would grow tired of his pursuit, but no, it's never that easy. The sound of distant waves brought him back to his earlier musings of how quickly he had adapted to the lifestyle of an escaped convict; something in which he never imagined would ever happen in his life, the upstanding character he was. Then again, he never believed that he would be running all over the European continent with nothing but the clothes on his back either.

Speaking of clothes, he internally apologized to the owner of the pants, and blue and white shirt in which he wore; he had been drawing way to much attention with his previous attire, and needed a change.

He began walking off of the coast in which he found himself residing in, his eyes gazing at the distant city of Sardinia in the horizon. How had he traveled this far? So far away from where he had started at Hungary? Of course he knew it was because of his new found stamina, but then again, questioning himself helped to pass the time. After all, it had been two months since Arthur last spoke to him, and six months since the day of his duel. He did not know what was going on in Arthur's mind, but he would try his best to give Arthur his space to sort out his problems. He couldn't fathom what it would be like to kill someone you considered a friend. Just thinking about what he would do if he was ever forced to kill someone close to him like Sakura, Rin, Saber, or Issei, hurt him like a physical blow. He just wouldn't do it.

Speaking of which, he had nothing to do, no set purpose or goal. Maybe there was a method to return back to his world and Arthur had just been wrong. The chances of that however were slim at best. He would wander then, saving those around him until he determined a course of action. It did not matter how long it would take, just that eventually he would come up with something.

Caught in his musings, he did not notice the emergence of a portal beneath him. He fell of course, a look of surprise plastered over his face as he tried to grab for a hold that was not present. Darkness enveloped him, his sense of balance non-existent.

* * *

"You did not tell us that you possessed such strength." Susanoo said, a mirthful look in his eyes. "Nor did you mention that you would go around spreading a tale of a wandering saint."

"Yes, yes indeed." The living Buddha said in agreement.

"How?" Was all he managed to say after he re-orientated himself from his fall. That however, was answered after spotting a large mirror in the room that revealed his location before he was forcefully abducted. More importantly, the woman with eyes of glass sat beside said mirror as if it had nothing to do with her. She looked over at him, and smiled so cheerfully that the annoyance within him began to vanish by the second.

"How, is something I would like to know." Susanoo interjected, a curious gaze being directed at him. "How did you slay the Marquis Voban? Why did you choose to disappear from the divine sighting?"

"So you admit it." He stated flatly. "You were spying on me."

"I do not control what the divine sighting reveals, so spying is not the right word." Susanoo brought a cup of tea to his mouth and took small sips in periodic sessions. "Unintentional is more like it."

"Oh put a cork in it Susanoo, we all know it wasn't unintentional, being as this realm is of your domain." The living Buddha chided good naturedly. The Buddha turned to him, it's face a mixture of calm and excitement. "How did you do it Shirou?"

"Well, even if you ask me, didn't you already see it through that divine sighting thing?" He calmly sat down on the mat he had frequented when residing in Susanoo's realm and faced the direction of the occupants, an exasperated look on his face.

"We would have," The woman with eyes of glass began, her back straight, and her gaze not meeting his. "But you were a mean idiot who decided it would be better to interfere with the divine sighting."

He looked confused for a moment before a thought popped into his head. "My authority?"

"Yes." Susanoo, the living Buddha, and the woman with eyes of glass chorused.

He sat there, stunned at their audacity. How did they expect him to defeat Voban without utilizing his Authority? That he would magically defeat Voban with a single blow? He wasn't to sure on that one, and it wasn't as if he could really know. He waited, his gaze blank, hoping that he did not hear what he had just heard. Reality however, was never dependent on hope. They all sat there waiting for his answer.

"You're all impossible." he said with a twitch of an eye-brow.

"Impossible? No Shirou," Susanoo lifted a flexed arm. "One punch, that's all it would take."

"I see that the years have taken their toll on you Susanoo, you've gone senile from your younger battle-filled days." The woman with eyes of glass said, pouring him a cup of tea in the process. He stared gratefully at it, and drank it to quench the dryness in his throat.

"Fine, perhaps I was a little full of myself, but Shirou could have used a different authority." Susanoo stated.

"I can agree with that." The living Buddha said. "But the past has passed. Right now I would rather discuss Shriou's skills with a blade. I knew he wasn't just good with a knife."

"Such skill does indeed need praise." Susanoo locked eyes with him. "I question myself if I ever had such aptitude with mine." Susanoo mused for a moment before continuing. "To have attained such ability without using an Authority, truly admirable."

"Well..." He shrugged care-freely. "Thanks I guess."

"He just shrugged your praise off like it's nothing Susanoo." The living Buddha laughed jovially, turning to him after the laughter died down. "You must know that to have been given a compliment by Susanoo, a man of reputable sword skill is no easy feat. He has battled many gods, Campiones, and even bested the eight-headed serpent. Is that really all you have to say?"

He nodded his head, after all, the skill he displayed was not really that of his own, but of another man deserving of the praise. A man who practiced tirelessly day after day, and night after night to cut down a swallow in mid-flight.

"Humble seems to be another aspect to your identity as a god." The woman with eyes of glass moved to sit across from him and next to Susanoo. "That, and testosterone filled idiocy. Who decides to fight two Campione on the same day, and consecutively nonetheless?" The woman with eyes of glass looked at him for a moment before blinking. "Forget what I said, I've found my answer."

He shook his head, taken aback for a moment.

"Can I see it? Your sword I mean." The living Buddha waited patiently for his answer, the others also waiting for his response.

He looked at their expectant faces. He had nothing to gain by revealing the blade, but he had nothing to lose either. But perhaps this was a test of some kind. He looked at the Buddha's amused face and sighed. The Buddha did not seem the type to secretly test him. A glance over the Buddha's shoulder revealed to him the curious gaze of Susanoo. Perhaps it would be best to just reveal it, he was after all the guest, and he did owe them. Concentrating within him, he drew it out onto his awaiting hand.

"A brittle blade." Susanoo remarked. "It's long and thin, two things that don't mix well for a sword, but perhaps it is its length that gave birth to such a technique." _Or maybe it was just the skill of the user._

He passed the blade over to the living Buddha after accepting Susanoo's remark.

"Ordinary," The living Buddha stated blandly. _Perhaps there's a trick to this blade, something not seen on the surface._ "Ordinary tempered steel created in the fires of a blacksmith's forge." The living Buddha inspected the sword, running a finger down its length and drawing blood. "Sharp too."

"You talk as if you've handled a sword once before." He inquired. The Buddha looked him in the eyes before smiling.

"Maybe, maybe not." The Buddha tossed the blade back to him, the handle facing towards him.

"Shirou," Susanoo garnered his attention with a grunt. "Perhaps a spar would be in order? It has been years since I was able to test my mettle."

"As much as I would like to continue this trail of conversation, such talk is not fit for tea time." The woman with eyes of glass reprimanded with a stern gaze. "Especially if you were to spar in my garden out front and back."

"Sorry," Susanoo said. "It's just that it has been decades, maybe centuries since my last activity."

"It's alright, but more importantly, we have been neglecting the most important subject of this conversation." The woman with eyes of glass turned her gaze towards him, and bowed in apology. "I'm sorry for placing you in such a situation. After all, the power balance between Campiones has now been broken. There was a careful balance once before you see, one in which was precariously on the edge, but still functioned; and now there is nothing to stop the fall out."

Wordlessly, he placed all his attention on the woman with eyes of glass, evident from the shifting of his eyes. "You sound as if you have an opinion? An idea of sorts?"

"That's because I do. Fact is though, I would feel bad if I forced you into it. Although I would also feel bad for the lives of the innocent that perish due to land wars and in-fighting the humans do. Now take into account that the Balkans no longer has a Campione to defend it from Heretic gods, and the casualties may very well surmount the death toll of what the humans call 'the plague.'"

"Then what would you have me do?" His mind began running through several scenarios, none of which were good. He fidgeted, the subtle movements of his feet, creaking the tatami mats beneath him and doing little to to appease him. He no longer felt right to simply sit and do nothing, he had already wasted six months; six months un-awarely running away from his problems - well, now that he thought about it, perhaps from the eyes of those who pursued him, he was...

"I do not have the power to control your actions, nor do I wish to, but are you sure that you are willing to hear me out?"

The clinking of tea cups against the porcelain saucer in which they lay was the only noise that could be heard within the room. The koi fish swimming in the middle of the pond visible through the nearby window, stopped in their feverish game of tag. Their eyes seeming to stare off into the vast expanse of sky above them.

"Yes."

The woman with eyes of glass nodded and opened her mouth to speak. "Take sovereignty of the Balkans, defend its people from harm. Of course you don't have to remain there, you need only leave behind a reminder of your protection; a symbol if you will, of your affiliation to the Balkans. This wou-"

"You forget," He interjected, the cup of tea in his right hand left forgotten. "That my presence would only draw more danger. My sovereignty would only serve as a catalyst to draw other Campione to battle, in which case, my affiliation to the Balkans would be detrimental."

"That may be true, but you as well seemed to have forgotten," The woman with eyes of glass smiled. "That I am one to think things through clearly. Take for example the cup of tea within your hands. Have you ever noticed why it is that no matter the occasion, no matter your tempera-mentality, that cup of tea within your hand will always suit your taste? That is because I observe, fully understand how it is you feel before taking the liberty of preparing you a cup. My methodicalness also translates over to my suggestions; so before you speak out again, perhaps you should take to heart the liberty of patience and let me _finish_."

The smile adorning the woman with eyes of glass's face sent shivers down his spine, and froze the fidgeting of his feet and body. He assumed that Rin would be the only woman able to accomplish such an act, but here he sat proven wrong. If the woman with eyes of glass was anything like Rin, he didn't know how he would handle it when he would eventually irk her ire. Rin was bad enough with her Gandr curses, but to the level of a god? He did not think so.

"Understood! Please continue!" He said hastily, bowing his head as further proof of his sincerity in his words.

The woman with eyes of glass's smile wore off and she again opened her mouth to speak, her cherry lips moving to and fro as she spoke. "As I was saying, take sovereignty of the Balkan's, but you must first gain credibility in your actions. Slay a heretic god, defeat local strife, represent a magic organization, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you prove that you are not a Heretic god. After all, the very definition would imply rebelling against your legend, something in which you are not. I would even go as far as to classify you as a true god manifested into the world without consequence, but the world is a petty place filled with fear and greed."

The woman with eyes of glass paused, staring at him to make sure he understood. He nodded his head, her explanations were not hard to follow along.

"A fear and greed in which prevents them from believing, comprehending the truth." A sigh came from the woman with eyes of glass's mouth. "Reality is mired with the convenient past truths. Filled with the egotistical view of right and wrong, good and evil, most of which are unfounded or based on the actions of a few. Were the Muslims really evil to the extent in which crusades were sanctioned by the pope near the beginning of the eleventh century? A matter of perspective I guess, but the point I'm trying to convey is that it's hard to change human understanding." The woman with eyes of glass directed her gaze towards his, his reflection appearing on her irises. "You have a monumental task ahead of you, be sure that you fully realize what it is that your trying to accomplish - and again, you don't _have_ to do this."

"Thank you for the suggestion, it has helped me consider what it is I should do for the time being." He stared into his reflection within the tea cup, noting the way in which his eyes shone with a new determination.

"And?"

"I have no regrets, there is only one path."

"I see..."

The atmosphere in the room steadily began to become more lively; based on how it was when he had first been unceremoniously dropped into said room through a dark portal. He had to admit, Susanoo, the woman with eyes of glass, and the living Buddha were good company - most of the time. A pot was placed in front of him, a ladle and old kitchen appliances inside.

"~Shirou~" The living Buddha said sweetly. "Your duty calls!"

He sweat dropped when he noticed the looks of approval from Susanoo and the woman with eyes of glass directed at the living Buddha. Perhaps it was because of routine, or perhaps not, but he reluctantly took the pot and placed it over a fire; adding water and beginning to make use of any ingredients around him to make a broth. The other's watched, surprised at his actions, before commending him. The living Buddha walked up to him, coughing a few times to clear his throat.

"Shirou," The living Buddha began, a look of seriousness he had not seen since Saber had left plastered on his face. "Did I ever say I love you?"

He faltered in the process of moving the pot off of the fire, and the subsequent result had him cursing as the contents of the pot spilt onto the floor.

"NO!" The living Buddha wailed in despair. The Buddha remained there, on its knees, staring at the sizzling remains of what he knew to be curry. The woman with eyes of glass walked up to the Buddha and smiled.

"Out." She said without batting an eye to the devastation on the Buddha's face. He felt sorry for the Buddha, but did nothing when the Buddha reluctantly left the room. He turned to the owner of the realm and bowed his head in apology.

"Sorry about the mess." He said, his stare facing the ground.

Susanoo sighed in regret. "It can't be helped, maybe some other time. Until then, good day to you."

"Good day?" A familiar portal appeared beneath him and he fell in without protest.

"I think you would find it prudent to remain in Sardinia for a while longer, something entertaining is bound to occur." He heard Susanoo say before the portal closed above him.

Interesting? What did Susanoo mean by interesting? He shrugged, his falling form nearing a source of light that signified the end of the portal. As long as it wasn't Doni interesting, then it would be fine, but his experience told him otherwise. Speaking of Doni - the phantom scar cut vertically across his left eye throbbed. He wondered how Doni was doing, no scratch that; he didn't want to know.

* * *

When Salvator Doni, the sixth Campione, stepped fully into his range, the first thing he did was nothing but relax his shoulders.

The strike came, swift and sure in its lethality that it would cleave a man in two. A moment later it struck the ground, cleaving stone and cracking the nearby tiles, its target unharmed. Another moment later, the same result was attained.

Cracked tiles begun appearing on the ground one by one. Each tile being reduced to mere pieces due to the numerous cuts that traveled across their length. Sparks flew, the shiny embers floating in the air, moving to and fro before extinguishing as they met the cold ground.

He breathed in, his concentration stretched to the max, his thin blade diverting the impact of Doni's swings elsewhere. He breathed in again, and in a heart-beat he struck with lethal precision.

One strike. One strike and he had managed to cut a thin line on the blue open-flannel shirt in which Doni wore.

Such was the skill of his strike. Such was the power of his ability to completely enact the skill of another's. Such was the power he alone possessed.

He drew his gaze towards the figure of Doni that stood before him, the sword held precariously by a single hand having saved him from receiving a definite wound.

He relaxed his shoulders once again, letting the tip of his blade fall to face the ground, and waited for the rise and fall of Doni's continuous attacks; something in which didn't come.

Doni stood there, his expression blank, his gaze directed at the cut on his open blue-flannel shirt. Slowly, he lifted an arm to touch the laceration, his hand shaking in the process of running his fingers over it. He laughed, the intonation of his voice echoing across the room until it all but drowned the noise of the quite murmuring of the group observing.

The narrowing of his eyes was the only indication of his response to Doni's sudden outburst of amusement. "What do you find so entertaining?"

"You." Doni's form disappeared, his blue-flannel shirt swaying in the wind as it drifted towards the earth.

The drop in air pressure near the back hairs of his neck, and the tingles that ran up his spine alerted him to the incoming strike. With neigh but a twist of his body and a flick of his wrists, his blade met Doni's in a clash of steel. He felt it, the minute quivering of his blade as it grated against Doni's shorter, but more durable sword. He kicked out with his left leg, swept his arms over his shoulder, and pushed Doni back using the butt end off his blade.

Doni staggered, the blow to his diaphragm sending him back a few paces.

He did not let the opening go. He struck, a hand to the end of his sword's pommel to supply further stabbing power into his thrust.

Doni parried, the vibrations from the impact of his blade sending ripples of wind out into a vortex that scattered the ruble around the room.

He spun, using the momentum gained from Doni's parry to fuel his angular momentum into a downwards cleave that only met air.

"Yer open!"

He felt the cold steel against his skin underneath the hem of his armor, and immediately pulled away from Doni.

Silence. Their gazes met, their bodies ready for another bout, but neither moved. A piece of his armour fell to the ground, the clamour of the steel plate sending shivers down the spines of those observing with widened eyes.

"Now were even." Doni said, his arms holding out his sword in front of him. The necklace he wore naturally fell in place at the center of his chest, the only difference being the loss of his open blue-flannel shirt.

"Is there any chance that you would be satisfied with this?" He asked sedately.

Doni looked startled for a moment, then smiled. "Not a chance, first blood remember."

"Then lets end this in one more strike, there is still something I must do." He breathed, letting his lungs take in a new breath of air.

"Sounds about right." Doni readied his blade.

He closed his eyes, running his mind through the steps, the technique of a skill said to be impossible for mortal standards. His knees bent, his blade drew up past his shoulders, perfectly parallel to the ground; the small dip of the swords tip was the only indication of it's minute curvature. In his mind, was a swallow of the swiftest kind. It's azure silky feathers and it's ivory silky feathered underbelly, swaying to the breeze of a summers morning. Winged pinions stretched out to experience the light of a new day as its head began pruning at its feathers. One flap, then two, it hovered in the air, its gaze now certainly on him who had swooped in to stand next to it.

**"Tsubame Gaeishi!"**

Feathers drifted to the ground, blood splattered into the air, and on his blade lay the remains of the dead swallow, its body severed in three separate incisions. One for the strike that came over head, and another for the horizontal and vertical slash that came consecutively with the first.

He breathed out, and his left eye flickered open, the other blinded by the dripping of his blood.

"A tie then." He stated, watching Doni's fallen form on the ground, a cut running straight across his chest, but nothing more.

He marveled at Doni's skill, of how he had not only blocked two of his strikes, but countered with one of his own as well. Truly, he was the one more deserving of the silent praise given to him by those observing; because from their perspective, he had won, he was after all the one still standing. He would disprove that notion, he turned to face them, the blood dripping down his face becoming visible. Gasps echoed out through the room, but none voiced their opinions. He walked over to Doni, and extended a hand.

"Quit lying on the ground." He stated.

"But it's comfy." Doni protested even as he took hold of his hand.

They stood facing each other, one smiling, the other maintaining his blank face.

"I've decided," Doni suddenly stated as he stepped aside for him to leave. "That you're my new friend."

He nodded at the time, not really realizing what being Doni's friend entailed...but then again, Rin did call him an idiot.

* * *

There's the chapter, tell me what you guys think? Good? Bad? Needs a little work? I'm all ears.

On another note, I will be publishing a bleach crossover and a regular Naruto fic soon; so watch for it if you're interested.

**Special thanks to souvikkundu0017**


	7. Shirou Emiya

**"I am the bone of my sword"**

Rubble littered the area, a sea of flames burning brightly within the market square of Sardinia only fueled further by nearby cars. Buildings lay broken, the ground a wasteland of trampled dirt and grime. Ginourmous tusks jutted through another building and snapped it in half, a primal roar surging to life in the air. People screamed and ran for safety. It would do them no good. Glass and stone fell like rain, showering over those that fled. Cars were jammed on the road, lights flashing and alarms blaring. The earth shook, massive tremors spreading throughout the ground.

Red-eyes looked impassively at the fleeing populace and turned away to continue towards a path of distruction. Embers of flickering flame exuded from the flaming body in which the red-eyes were attached to. It was a flaming boar, larger than the tallest house, and longer than any football stadium. Its brown fur swayed with every step, its maw filled with sword like canines. All in its way were reduced to nothing, trampled to oblivion. None could oppose it, none could stop its charge, and yet a brave blond-haired girl jumped head first into the fray. It was beautiful in a sense, the flames enhancing the overall look of the fiery red dress the girl wore. She flew through the air, her form graceful, her intent all but clear. A magical circle appeared before her, and from it she drew a sword-Cuore de Leone. For all her effort however, she could do nothing but irritate the boar, and was consequently knocked aside.

A youth stood atop a building several miles away, his hair an odd mix of red and blond.

"Trace on."

A sword appeared in his hand, ornate, peerless, _divine_. In his other hand formed a black bow, its length greater than the average man. The youth narrowed his eyes on the distant boar, his vision far exceeding that of an average mortal.

"My core is twisted in madness."

What occurred next could almost be considered a sin. The divine sword in the youths hand, twisted and bent, becoming something that could barely even be considered a sword. With practiced grace, the youth knocked the altered sword onto his black bow and pulled it tightly against the bow's string. Already taught with tension, the youth pulled the bow string back even further.

"Soar, Caladbolg II."

A shock wave spewed forth behind the sword launched, azure blue light spiraling at its tip. The distance to the boar was traveled in an instant, the impact created unimaginable. The world erupted in a burst of magical flames, the boar taking the brunt of the damage as a nuclear shroom cloud ascended into the air. The boar wobbled, its movements lucid and uncertain, its lower half completely blown away.

The youth traced another sword and knocked it onto his bow in the same manor as the last, intent on finishing off the boar. Unexpectedly, a gust of violent wind beat him to it, destroying the boar with gale force winds.

Far from angered, the youth just smiled, happy to know that at least the danger was over. With a flick of his hand, the bow and sword vanished in a flurry of particles. Casually, he jumped down the building he stood atop and disappeared from sight just in time to miss the appearance of a cloaked purple haired boy.

* * *

Shirou didn't know what he was getting into by remaining near the city of Sardinia, but he knew he couldn't stand back and watch as people were placed in danger. Which is why he found himself roaming the trampled streets of Sardinia in hopes of finding any survivors. He searched and searched and searched, finding numerous people buried beneath the rumble in hollow cavities. Many civilians cried when Shirou saved them, their despair fading from their faces. And yet Shirou could see that not all were happy. Many had lost family and friends, for them he could do nothing but offer his condolences. However, he could do something for those who were injured.

It happened when he was treating a man who's skin was burnt black. Shirou had traced a copy of Avalon, finding that the sheath's properties worked due to Arthur's presence, and placed it over the man who lay unconscious. It sank into the man in a burst of light particles. A gasp was heard from behind him, and he slowly turned around. A black-haired boy stood before him wearing a white sweater over his black shirt, and next to him stood the girl who had confronted the boar. The boy had been the one to gasp, his mouth still hanging open. The girl stared at him calculatingly.

Shirou had messed up. He had been to enraptured with helping those in front of him that he forgot that he was currently in a room available to anyone. He had been careful trying to keep the existence of magic away from the common populace, lest the world's magic organization deem him a threat. Now however, he had just exposed a civilian to the world of magic. Shirou hoped that the rules about people who discovered the existence of magic were not similar to his world. He leveled a stern gaze on the blond next to the boy for Shirou knew she was of the magic side.

The blond stepped forward, her stride confident.

"What did you do to that man?" She questioned, face impassive. "Based on your answer, I may have to take action."

"E-Erica, what are you doing?" The boy asked.

"What needs to be done, Godou." Erica responded offhandedly.

Shirou sighed in relief. Based on the two's conversation, the boy already knew the existence of magic.

"Nothing of harm." Shirou said without pause as he stood up. "Look for yourselves."

Almost in response to Shirou's words, Avalon's power lit up in a flash of radiant blue. Tendrils of holy power raced across the burned man's body, repairing all damage. In the end, not even a blemish was left on the man's skin.

"Amazing." Godou said. "I've never seen such a thing."

"Neither have I." Erica said before staring at Shirou.

A brief silence spread throughout the room as Erica gathered her thoughts.

"Which organization do you hail from?" Erica asked. "You are not of the Copper-Black Cross, nor are you of the Bronze-Black Cross."

"I'm not part of an organization," Shirou said as he knelt next to the healed man and extended an open palm to grasp at the resurfaced Avalon. "I'm more of a freelance going wherever my path takes me."

Erica's gaze left Shirou's and drifted to Avalon.

"And what ancient artifact is that?"

"A holy one." Shirou said as he tucked it beneath his jacket and willed it to fade away. "Now if you will excuse me, I must go."

Shirou stepped passed Erica and Godou, but was soon stopped by Erica's call. He turned around and once again met Erica's gaze.

"Would you be interested in helping us save the lives of millions?" Erica asked.

"Save?"

"Yes, a heretic god is on the loose, and millions could end up dead. As your unaffiliated with any organziation, you are in a postion where it wouldn't matter if I asked for your help." Erica said.

Shirou paused, thoughts spinning in his head. The woman with eyes of glass had told him to prove himself, and if he could save people in the process, isn't accepting the best course of action? Shirou nodded his head, his mind made up.

"I'll help." He said.

"Good, My name is Erica Blandelli and this is Godou Kusanagi."

Erica motioned to herself and Godou before reaching out an open hand.

"Shirou Emiya." Shirou said as he shook Erica's hand.

"Now then, follow me." Erica said after letting go of Shirou's hand.

Erica along with Godou walked out of the room, Shirou following soon after.

It turns out Shirou's assumption that Godou was familiar with the magic side of the world was wrong. Way wrong. In fact, Godou reminded Shirou of himself when he stumbled head first into the Holy Grail War. The similarities were just to coincidental that Shirou couldn't help but wonder if it was a twisted act of fate. Nevertheless, Erica Blandelli was able to inform Godou of the ways of magic while unintentionally giving Shirou insight of the way magic worked in the world he was in. Different from his world where one utilizes their inner prana to manifest their mage craft, magic users in the world he found himself in base their magic off of a god's grace. Attributing their magic to align with a particular god for a particular effect.

The group traveled to Godou's initial destination. A house owned by a woman named Lucretia Zola who Godou was delivering a magic tomb to. Located near the coast of Sardinia, it had a grand view of the ocean.

Shirou, Godou, and Erica stepped out of the car they drove in and walked to the gate of Lucretia Zola's house.

"I've never seen you before. Who are you?" A voice said from above them.

"A cat?" Godou said as his gaze traveled up towards the black cat perched on the tiled roof.

Shirou widened his eyes. In front of him wasn't just a cat, it was a familiar. Rin had told him once of high ranking magi capable of wielding familiars, it's just that he's never seen one before.

"We're here to make a delivery on behalf of Ichirou Kusanagi, lady Lucretia Zola." Erica said.

"Ichirou?" The cat said. "I haven't heard that name in a while. By all means, come in."

The gate opened and Shirou, Erica, and Godou walked inside.

Inside Lucretia Zola's house was no different from any of the other houses Shirou has had the pleasure of seeing in Sardinia. Paintings lined the walls, and windows allowed for maximum light efficiency. Overall the house wasn't bad. It wasn't long before the cat lead Shirou, Erica, and Godou into the living room.

"Excuse my terrible manors." Lucretia said. She lay on her side, a hand perched by her head to support herself. "Being able to use magic makes one lazy."

Shirou had to stop himself from openly gawking at the boldness of Lucretia. She had a body that could put models to shame, and yet she chooses to brazenly wear such daring lingerie in front of guests. She wore a laced purple bra that just barely seemed to be able to hold her breasts, and a matching garder belt that had frills near the edges. Furthermore, her long silky brown hair enhanced her brown eyes. Luckily for Shirou, he had been exposed to something like this before, but Godou...He was a flustered mess. His eyes darting around as he had no idea where to look.

"She-She looks young." Godou whispered.

"What's the matter?" Lucretia asked.

"Well I thought you were my grandfather's acquaintance so I thought..." Godou trailed off, not wanting to offend Lucretia.

"I guess I can be old when compared to normal humans, but my youth has not yet faded." Lucretia raised her legs sensually into the air, her stockings running up her legs drawing Godou's attention. "The sun will set soon. Would you like to take a peak?"

Godou visibly swallowed.

"Disgusting." Erica said.

Shirou wasn't sure if Erica's insult was directed at him as well, but he chose to remain silent.

"Shut up!" Godou said to Erica who simply ignored him.

"Well, I wouldn't blame him, or the young man over there either. Youngsters don't have any self-control when it comes to certain things." Lucretia said.

"I-I do have self-control!" Godou shouted.

Shirou raised a questioning brow. He wouldn't fall for Lucretia's provocations like Godou had.

Lucretia sighed and brushed her hair back behind her ear with her left hand before picking up the tomb that Godou brought.

"The Grimoire of Prometheus? It sure brings back memories." Lucretia said with a glazed look in her eyes.

"Prometheus!" Erica exclaimed in surprise. "What do you intend to do with it?"

"Well I'm not sure. Something like this can only attract the wrong kind of people." Lucretia said. "I would like Godou to take it back if possible."

A calculative look entered Lucretia's eyes. Shirou was instantly on edge, he had seen a similar look from Kirei Kotomine when he had first met him in the Holy Grail War.

"Godou, did you meet anyone other than Erica here on your way to my home?" Lucretia asked.

"Not really...Oh! I did meet this kid who talked kind of funny though." Godou said.

Lucretia nodded her head and tossed Godou the grimoire of Prometheous.

"I'll give that to you." Lucretia said.

"Me? Wh-" Godou asked.

"-Please wait!" Erica said as she stared frustrated at Lucretia. "He's a complete novice when it comes to magic. He wouldn't even be able to use it!"

"It's a god's wish that Godou should hold onto it." Lucretia said.

"No way." Erica said.

"Coincidences are fate," Lucretia said as she gestured with her hand. "And the strings all come together in the end to lead to a destined path. Do you understand?"

Erica remained silent, her blond hair shadowing her eyes.

"That's not completely true." Shirou said as he spoke up for the first time. "Fate can be changed. If you walk down the path that you believe is right, you cannot be wrong. Coincidences are a product of chance, not fate."

"And you could prove such a statement, young man." Lucretia inquired.

"It is why I am here." Shirou replied falteringly.

If coincidences are truly fate, then what does that make EMIYA? What does that make Shirou who promised with conviction that he wouldn't become the man EMIYA became? It would make all of Shirou's efforts till present day be for naught. Shirou couldn't accept such a thing, and as such had spoke out in response with clenched hands.

"Interesting." Lucretia said while inspecting her nails.

"This is absolute rubbish." Erica stated with a huff. "It's a precious, ancient grimoire. How can you possible expect me to understand."

Erica left the room, her steps thumping heavily against the floor.

"Erica wait!"

Godou ran after Erica, leaving Shirou alone with Lucretia. As Shirou turned to leave the room, Lucretia turned a wayward glance at him, her eyes filling with a mysterious glint. Lucretia watched as Shirou exited the room before sitting up and walking over to her desk by the far wall. It wasn't a normal desk, not in the slightest. Magic circles and runes ingrained into the wood flashed a dim green before revealing a hidden compartment located under an ancient relic of a dragon. Carved scales ran down the dragon's length, its maw filled with sharp teeth. Clutched tightly in its hands, was a red jewel, a pendant that had been discovered recently that fell out of a distortion of malevolent energy from the sky. It is not yet known what it is, or what purpose it serves, but the dark energy it stored within it was enough for the Bronze-Black Cross to personally ask Lucretia to hold it for safe keeping. This however, was not what interested Lucretia at the moment, but rather the letter she had placed next to it. Specifically the line of a heroic god with eyes of golden brown, and hair a startling blend of red and blond.

"Shirou Emiya," Lucretia laughed to herself. "You truly are an interesting one."

* * *

Shirou felt a shiver run down his spine, but at the moment, it was the least of his problems. Shirou carfeully pried off a drunk Erica off of him and somehow managed to divert her attention onto Godou who just walked into the room Erica was staying at. In her drunken stupor, Erica somehow forced Godou into listening to her rant about the unfairness of life. Perhaps it would have worked better however, if she realized that she was mistaking Godou as the mask hung on the wall. Sure Shirou felt guilty for placing Godou in such a situation, but It was at this point that Shirou slipped out of the room, and into the guest room Lucretia provided.

Lying down on the guest bed, Shirou closed his eyes and found himself within Unlimited Blade Works, Arthur nowhere to be found. Shirou worried greatly about his friend, but knew that only time could heal mental wounds. It was precisely why he had grown to learn to be able to enter his inner world from The Woman with eyes of glass- to show Arthur that he could rely on him. Shirou felt Arthur's presence, in fact he was certain that Arthur was currently watching him, so like always, he sat down beside Avalon and waited.

Arthur watched Shirou from a distance. He knew he was being a coward. He knew he had no choice in ending Voban's life. But he also knew, that he himself was a cause of the incident. In Shirou, he saw Sasha, the boy he had saved, but forsaken. In Shirou, he was reminded again and again about his failure, but Shirou was earnest. Shirou had sat there waiting time after time. How long had Shirou simply just sat there waiting for him? How long would he make him wait? Arthur clenched his hands into fists. His behaviour was not fitting for a warrior, his behaviour was not fitting for a king!

Arthur brought Voban's battered scarf to his eyes and sighed in regret, his determination fading ever so slightly.

"Soon Shirou," Arthur muttered with conviction as he tied the scarf around his sword's hilt. "Soon."

* * *

Shirou awoke with a jolt, the ground trembling beneath him. Quick to action, he jumped out of bed and rushed out to see the commotion. Erica and Godou seemed to have beat him to it, they stood in the hall staring out through a window.

"What's going on?" Shirou asked.

"Nothing good." Erica replied as she and Godou rushed out of the house and into the storm outside.

Shirou followed after them, his mind visualizing a revolver being cocked. Following closely behind them, Shirou exited the front of Lucretia's house. The wind hit him first, then a torrent of rain drenched him from head to toe. A giant of a man was was walking in front of him, each step causing massive tremors on the Earth, albeit unintentionally. The man had a white beard that stretched down to encompass the upper half of his muscular armored chest, and white hair that flowed down his head like a lion's mane. His eyes were completely white, his arms equipped with circular bracers.

"What the hell is that?" Godou asked in shock.

Erica stepped forward.

"Please wait dearest god!" Erica yelled.

The god stopped and faced Erica.

"How insolent for a human to interrupt a god's work." The god said.

"Please excuse my rudeness. I take it you are the great Melquart, the king of gods the Phoenicians worshiped in ancient time."

"I'm impressed that there is still a commendable human that remembers my name." Melquart turned and fully revealed his form. "I am Melquart, the god who was once king of this island- no, the entire ocean!"

Shirou stored the name Melquart into his memory, and watched how things would play out.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky and struck Melquart by the arm.

"Was that lightning?" Godou asked.

"It barely rains in Sardinia, let alone lightning..." Erica trailed off.

An image of a goat's face appeared in the sky before fading away.

Melquart drew his undamaged arm to his side and stared up at the clouds.

"Troublesome fellow, but still quite the shape-shifter. I must make haste." Melquart said as he turned and continued on his way.

Erica's face became pensive, before widening in realization.

"Melquart manifested, which means...!"

A magic circle appeared beside Erica and she instantly changed into her battle wear, the red dress Shirou recalled her wearing when she was up against the boar manifesting itself on her person. She jumped forward, intent on pursuing Melquart.

"Godou, you stay here. Shirou, I need you to cover me with whatever spells you have up your sleeve."

Shirou nodded and leapt beside Erica.

"Wait!" Godou called. "What are you going to do?!"

"Melquart intends to fight it out with another god. Shirou and I will prevent the god's from fighting. Melquart is one of the strongest gods in the Mediterranean. If Shirou and I can't stop him, this island will disappear." Erica said gravely.

"But how?" Godou asked.

"It's a knight's duty to protect the people." Erica stated as she stared at Shirou. "I know I'm asking a lot from a freelance, but will you help me?"

Something stirred deep from within Shirou, Erica's words resonating with his soul. There wasn't any doubt in his mind.

"Of course." Shirou said.

* * *

The skies churned, violent winds uprooting trees and shooting gravel like shrapnel. lightning flashed in irregular increments of time, wreaking havoc on the world. Houses caught on fire, gauges were ripped into the Earth and filled with heavy rain. At the center of all the chaos stood Melquart, his gaze directed at the youth in front of him. The youth, was cloaked from the neck down, his young face and vivid blue hair were the only features left uncovered.

"Long time no see, Melquart." The youth said.

"I have been waiting for this day Verethragna!" Melquart said.

Verethragna eyed Melquarts form.

"It seems the injuries in our last duel have not yet healed."

"You would be so conceited to revive me just to have a worthy opponent?" Melquart asked. "I will not over look such audacity just because I am wounded!"

"Then I will look forward to this."

The clouds parted, a goat and a raptor appeared and morphed into particles of light which were absorbed by Verethragna.

"With this, I have all but one of my incarnations." Verethragna said.

Melquart raised his fist and made to punch Verethragna to start the battle.

"Please wait!" A voice yelled.

Erica jumped between Melquart and Verethragna, hiding her nervousness from view. A shield was held in her right hand, and her red battle dress billowed with the wind.

"I plead you to kindly cease this battle." Erica said.

"This land is now a stage fitting for a battle between gods. Cease your nonsense human!" Melquart said.

Far from giving up, Erica stood brave against the fury of a god, and tried once again to plead with them.

"Gods please have mercy!" Erica shouted.

Verethragna floated closer to the ground and stared Erica in the eyes.

"Witch, I find your unwavering spirit against gods admirable. However, know thy place!"

Lightning shot down from the clouds and launched itself at Erica. Quickly, Erica jumped back and avoided the blow, but more lightning soon followed. Each strike of lightning cornered Erica more and more, until a point where she was forced to block with her shield. Sparks flashed to life, Erica's shield flying through the air at incredibly speed and embedding itself into the ground. Wincing in pain Erica could only look up in time to witness another bolt of lightning coming straight for her. She tried to run, tried to do anything to get away, but her body wouldn't be able to react in time. Strong hands enveloped her form, pressing her protectively against a broad chest.

"Rho Aias!"

A seven petal shield burst into existence.

Rho Aias: The Seven Rings that Cover the Fiery Heavens, is the shield based off of the legend of the hero Aias who blocked the javelin of the Great Hero Hector during the Trojan War. Originally a shield covered in seven layers of oxhide, it became a conceptual weapon said to block all projectiles due to the feat of stopping Hector's javelin. Seven reddish petals were formed in the air in the shape of an iridescent flower attributed to a rocket larkspur flower said to have bloomed from Aias's blood as he died. Seven petals, each with the durability of a fortress wall.

The lightning did not stand a chance. Striking against the Aias's walls, the lightning faded without leaving a single trace.

"A-Another holy artifact." Erica stuttered from her position held against Shirou's chest. "Impossible."

"Erica, take Godou and head for cover." Shirou said. "Negotiations have failed."

Godou had come along with Shirou and Erica insisting that he would be of use because of the grimoire of Prometheus.

"Another holy artifact." Erica muttered again in a daze causing Shirou to sigh.

"Its you." Verethragna said. "The one from before."

Shirou looked confused at Verethragna, but took the brief calm as the time to retreat back to Godou with Erica.

"Shirou, Erica, are you okay?" Godou asked.

"I'm fine, but I need you and Erica to remain here. I'll deal with Melquart and Verethragna." Shirou said.

"Your crazy." Erica said, returning from her earlier stupor. "You can't possible take on one god, let alone two."

"That's why we help him." Godou said resolutely. Godou stared Shirou in the eyes, making sure he had Shirou's attention. "Let us take care of Verethragna."

Shirou hesitated. Erica and Godou were still human, one possible mistake could mean the end of them, but for him it was different. Through Arthur, he could be considered a god. It was a miracle really, that Verethragna and Melquart did not yet sense the divinity that he concealed within him. Then again, he already learned how to control it and keep it from seeping out of him by mitigating the brunt of the divine energy into Unlimited Blade Works. Be that as it may, it wouldn't be wrong to say that he would be taking a chance on Erica and Godou's life if he followed through with Godou's suggestion. Finally, he made up his mind. Raising a single hand, Shirou revealed his fingers.

"Five minutes." Shirou said sternly. "Hold Verethragna back for five minutes. However, if you are in danger, flee for your lives."

"I understand." Godou said with a bit of confusion. "But why for only five minutes?"

Erica's eyes widened in shock, her high intelligence running to an obvious conclusion.

"...You can't be serious." Erica said.

Shirou didn't answer, just tackled Melquart at godspeed off of the Island of Sardinia and disappeared into the distance.

Gobsmacked, Erica could only gape in shock at the absurdity of what just what happened. Godou too was reduced to a similar state. Verethragna however only smiled in anticipation before staring down at Godou and Erica.

"I had thought that by reviving Melquart I would fight a fierce lion, but I didn't think that I would attract a hidden dragon." Verethragna said. "Now how will you entertain me boy?"

Godou clutched tightly to the grimoire held in his hands, but also clutched tightly onto the shield Shirou had left him. Rho Aias took its original form of a shield covered in seven layers of oxhide. Godou knew that Rho Aias was the key to victory, just that he had to find a way to use it to his advantage.

* * *

I have to apologize to a lot of my readers for the long months of absence. As we all know, life can be very difficult at times, so this is as much as I am currently able to get out. Tests are hectic and exams are excruciatingly painful. As for why this chapter is being posted before the other ones, the other ones are still in progress and I was closest to finding a way to end this chapter of Birth of a Legend than the others so I updated this first.

As a status report for my other stories.

Magus Among Ninjas Chapter: 54% - I plan to make it long, hopefully.

A Hollow Feeling Chapter: 30%

That's how it's going so far, and I fear I may not be able to update again in a while, maybe not till the end of school and exams...

Thanks for reading- Parcasious.


	8. True Battle's Interlude

**I am the King of the people who walk the fair and righteous path.**

Thunder loomed in the horizon, a great storm threatening to unleash hell upon the earth. The tides receded and violently rushed forth, creating massive waves of water that jeopradized the safety of the cities anywhere near or at the coastal embankments of Sardinia. Many smaller islands were already submerged beneath sea water, and it was on one such island that Shirou stood his ground.

The water beneath Shirou's feet repelled under the the blow of a heavy fist, his arms raised to block the offensive strike.

"Foolish," Melquart drew back his fist. "How foolish of me to not have noticed a fellow god. But even more foolish," Melquart's eyes narrowed. "Is you who would interrupt my battle with a conceited enemy. What say you in your defence?!"

Melquarts voice boomed for all to hear. As if in response, the very sky itself split in two and reigned down lightning. Melquart, the tutelary god of the Phoenician city of Tyre, was angry.

"You would have jeopardized the lives of the people living in peaceful ignorance." Shirou raised his hand, Kanshou forming in tiny mots of blue light. "And that I can not allow."

"For the sake of the humans?" Melquart stood perplexed for a moment before glaring at Shirou. "Do you not see what they have done? Do you not see the filth in which they have desecrated the oceans that I rule with? Those who would condone such actions are nothing more than wretched ilk upon the earth. So what if they die?"

Great tidal waves rose from the oceans, creating overlapping waves that traveled inland towards the coast. Sooner or later a tsunami would form.

Shirou glared at Melquart.

"They are your people, the ones who have prayed to you for salvation for decades past." Shirou argued.

Melquart's eyes softened, but didn't lose their ferocity.

"And yet many of them don't remember the old ways. Many do not even know of me, of my blessings which have protected these lands for centuries." Melquart said in restrained outrage. "I must rectify this mistake by purging the blasphemus, and sparing the few who know of my name."

Shirou shook his head.

"I can't allow that." Shirou said once again.

Shirou's eyes drifted to the violence wreaking havoc around him. Sooner or later, it would cause too much damage, too much casualties. Shirou tightened his grip around Kanshou and traced Bakuya at his other hand.

**With a blade in my hand and valor in my blood, I pursued an endless dream.**

"Pity. A fellow God such as yourself can not see the pest these humans are, but I grow curious." Melquart said as he lowered his stance, his front foot stretching forward. "Why do you protect them?"

Shirou locked eyes with Melquart, his gaze resolute.

"Because I made a promise." Shirou said as he raised Kanshou and Bakuya into a defensive stance. "A promise to be a Hero of Justice."

Melquart widened his eyes and bellowed loudly.

"HAhahaha." Melquart chuckled. "Truly, I was not wrong to assume you to be another God of Steel." Melquart raised an arm and laid it across his chest before bowing his head in recognition. "I respect your resolution," Melquart gazed squarely at Shirou. "And will meet it with unrivaled force!"

A shiver ran down Shirou's spine as Melquart let loose his blood lust upon the earth.

**Steel was my body and fire was my might.**

Shirou reinforced his body, his muscles bulging, veins popping by his eyes.

"Oh Wind, Oh Rain, Oh Thunder!' Melquart's voice boomed across the wind, mixing along with the sounds of striking thunder; the noise becoming deafening to the point that mortal ears would begin to bleed. "By Melqart's true name of Baal Hadad, I beckon thee! Oh Storm, listen to the calls of the cloud rider, make haste and come!"

The very sky parted, the clouds splitting and filtering the blessed light of the sun upon the earth.

Gold radiant beams of light illuminated the form of two twin war clubs decending down upon the battle field as if heralding the beginning of the end.

"Yagarish the Chaser," Melquart said as he caught the handle of the war club enveloped in gale force winds. "And Ayamari the Driver." Moments later, the second war club enveloped in unrestrained lightning landed within Melquart's other hand. Melquart brandished both in front of Shirou.

Melquart took a step forward.

"Then let us begin."

Melquart swung Yagarish forward, and the sea behind him swelled and rushed forth in a torrent of unrelenting water. Sea foam shot into the air, dousing the area with clumps of thick bubbles that fully enveloped Melquart, obscuring his form from vision.

As the seas surrounded Shirou in its azure hues, he jumped. Twisting his body to remain vertical he soared through the air before tossing Kanshou and Bakuya. Two spinning arcs struck to the origin, cutting through the ocean's surface like a knife to butter. The water parted in their path, the speed and vibration of the rotating blades, displacing the water and drizzling it into the air.

Shirou traced a new pair of Kanshou and Bakuya within his hands.

**Having created over a thousand blades seeking neither victory nor defeat, I was unknown to death, nor known to life.**

Melquart's eyes widened, momentarily surprised that his location had already been compromised. Raising Yagarish once again, he batted Kanshou away before he began to twist his body in an attempt to escape the range of Bakuya who trailed slightly behind Kanshou. Unexpectedly, it wasn't Bakuya that Melquart had to prioritize, it was Kanshou who curved back within a hair's breadth.

Surprise written across his features, Melquart, rather than choosing to deflect either blade, shot to the surface of the ocean to escape the unrelenting onslaught of the twin blades. However, his gaze met the form of familiar steel.

Shirou's second copy of Kanshou and Bakuya ripped through the air, creating a sonic boom as the blades shot faster than the speed of sound. From beneath the water, Shirou's first pair of Kanshou and Bakuya ascended towards the surface, attracted by the resonance of steel from the other pair of Kanshou and Bakuya.

With a shout, Malquart was struck by both copies of Kanshou and Bakuya as the sky rained down tendrils of white lightning that blotted out the horizon.

Shirou unconsciously shielded his eyes with left his fore arm, the intensity of the light burning into his retinas.

**Yet my hands will never hold anything.**

Shirou drew back his arm and surveyed the battle field. Suddenly the water rippled beneath him, erupting in a fissure like spiral that pressed against his back and propelled him stupendously high into the air. Grimacing, Shirou immediately readied himself to trace several dozen noble phantasms into the air, but the heavy scent of ozone altered his priorities.

"Rho Aias!"

Once again, the seven petal shield of the hero Aias bloomed to life, its iridescent seven layers deflecting the hail of lightning above Shirou; each bolt of lightning exploding into fragmented shards that sparked violently as they fell harmlessly past Shirou.

The torrent against Shirou's back pushed him harder, forcing Shirou to take immediate action. Twisting his body, Kanshou ripped clean a segment of the spire of water propelling him. Shifting his center of gravity, he traced a nameless blade beneath him and used it as leverage to kick off before the water beneath him could once again resume its relentless assault.

Falling. Falling. Falling. Shirou felt his stomach tighten, the sensation of weightlessness further fueling the adrenaline running through his body.

Melquart was fast approaching, Ayamari the Driver, poised to strike within Melquart's white knuckled grip; the lightning around the war club dispersing in arcs of high voltage electricity.

Structural analysis verified the thought that was flowing through Shirou's mind- Dangerous. War clubs are weapons employed to deal blunt damage criticals to foes, grinding their bones to dust and hemorrhaging vital organs like the brain, heart, and liver. However, Ayamari the Driver, was different. Like the high frequency light of a laser able to melt straight through high density solid steel, the dispersed lightning condensed together and formed a rod of light that stretched towards the heavens, vaporizing all in its path.

Kanshou and Bakuya wouldn't be able to block it. Rho Aias did as much damage to him for every petal destroyed. Shirou searched within his mind for a means to avoid injury, all within the span of a few milliseconds.

A golden hilt appeared in the air, its grip covered by an elegant ring guard that shone a dull light. Shirou willed for the rest of the blade to form.

Durendal, the Peerless Sword, emerged from within the depths of the Unlimited Bladeworks, its holy aura illuminating the world in a pale yellow.

Sword met club.

"AAAAHHHHH!" Shirou yelled, the muscles in both his arms rippling as he pushed aside Ayamari with his reinforced strength.

The subsequent shock wave of discharging electricity sent Shirou reeling back to tumble across the water's surface.

Melquart's eyes widened in surprise.

"Rolan-"

Durendal slammed onto the base of Yagarish, dispersing the ferocious winds around it and dislodging it from Melquart's hand. Shirou had righted himself and no sooner was he on the attack.

Ayamari swung back in retaliation, but Shirou shifted his stance and pounced forward; grinding Durendal's serrated steel horizontally against Ayamari, he rendered the attack null. Sparks flew, time seemed to be moving in slow motion as a chill ran down Shirou's back. The scent of morning dew carried by the wind sifted through his nose, his eyes narrowed.

Shirou withdrew his left hand from Durendal's hilt and smashed it against Durendal's pommel. Durendal broke its dead lock against Ayamari. Subsequently, without the leverage of Ayamari holding Shirou in place, his body reacted from the rotational force created near instantly. Spinning in a semi circle, Shirou's eyes caught sight of Yagarish the Chaser just before it grazed him on the shoulder.

Wincing, Shirou withdrew from Melquart and tracked the flying form of Yagarish. Winds had once again enveloped the blade, causing miniature tornadoes to form around it. It was at moments like these that Shirou was thankful for his magical sense. Rin had discovered during the Holy Grail War that Shirou possessed a keen sense of magical tracking with his nose. As demonstrated when Shirou could always tell whenever Rin would try to sneak up on him.

Melquart grabbed Yagarish from out of the air and brandished it in front of Shirou with a battle born smile plastered onto his face.

"So you are Heretic God Roland; the paladin of Charlemagne who was slain by Islamic forces." Melquart stated.

Durendal hung loosely by Shirou's side, its steel unblemished and undented, for within it there resided the power of three miracles. Legends in the 'Song of Roland' herald it as a symbol of power splendidly forged much like Caliburn, having been the emblem of the Battle of Roncevaux Pass. Not even Roland, on the verge of death itself, could destroy the holy blade.

"Not quite, but time is running short." Shirou locked eyes with Melquart and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, but this will have to end in an instant."

"You plan to face Verathragna as well." Melquart logically concluded.

Shirou nodded his head.

"How impertinent! Even for a Heratic God as well known as Roland, striking me down so easily is not something so readily accomplished. You belittle my fighting prowess with your incompetence."

Shirou shook his head.

"No, it wasn't my intention to belittle you. I just possess confidence in my abilities." Shirou clenched his fists and focused within himself, his posture going rigid from the amount of divinity pooling around him. "Prepare yourself, Melquart. I won't be holding back."

"Then come Roland, let us fight till the death!" Melquart yelled in challenge.

Shirou looked stoically at Melquart, his output of energy suddenly halting.

"My name isn't Roland." Shirou said flatly as Bakuya appeared in the grip of his outstretched right arm. "My name, is Shirou Emiya."

**And so as I pray, Unlimited Blade Works!**

A ring of fire enveloped all in the vicinity, and when next it passed, there was simply nothing but the raging ocean and violent sky.

* * *

"What now?" Erica whispered to Godou. "He's not attacking us."

"No," Godou said back. "He's just assessing our capabilities."

Erica frowned. She was not having a good day, but she had already expected it from the moment she languidly got out of her bed. Fact is, she still had yet to truly comprehend why it was that she was not dead yet. God knows how many time that particular question surfaced within her head. Better yet, how was it possible to possess two holy artifacts without any magical community seeing hide nor hair of such an auspicious individual?

Shirou. The name bothered Erica. No record matching Shirou's description existed period. He was an anomaly, someone the very world knows next to nothing about, and that in itself was what was strange. Take for example a child born without a birth certificate to prove it. Even without the birth certificate, records of purchases or a physical description can still be offered to validate the authenticity of the person. Yet Shirou, like what was mentioned before, had none, not a penny to his name.

And low and behold, he appears out of nowhere with not one holy artifact, but two. Furthermore, he gives said holy artifact not to her, but to one who does not know how to use it.

Erica stared critically at Godou. The shield in his hands was Rho Aias, the shield of the Heratic God Aias of the Trojan War, and the only shield capable of stopping the javelin of the great hero Hector. Godou didn't understand how to use it, let alone understand the burden that Shirou had laid upon them both. They were tasked to stop a god, albeit for only five minutes, but it was a god as renowned as Verethragna.

"Well?" Verethragna asked. "Aren't you going to do something?"

Godou buckled under Verethragna's gaze, but smiled fiercely nonetheless.

"It seems my choice was not wrong." Verethragna said. "To think you would smile at the face of death, truly a warrior worthy of my attention." Verethragna sneered and lifted a hand towards Godou. "Now lets have some fun!"

"Erica, catch!"

"G-Godou?!"

Godou tossed Rho Aias at Erica, catching her by surprise before she caught it firmly in her grip.

Without a word, Godou conveyed his intentions to Erica. Godou knew he didn't have a clue as to how to utilize the shield, but he did notice the way Erica was eyeing it. So he took a gamble. Possibly because of his experience, thanks to his grandfather bringing him to many gambling games, his gamble paid off.

Erica without missing a heartbeat, deftly strapped her right arm onto Rho Aias's leather arm straps and prayed to the god Aias. Light shimmered around her as she spoke with purpose, Rho Aias acting as a conduit towards the Heretic god in which she prayed to.

"Hero Aias, I pray thee for your power, for your protection! Oh hero of Troy, bring down upon us your radiance!" Erica yelled.

The turbulent sky over head parted, streaming a solar ray that shone upon Erica. As suddenly as it came, it disappeared, leaving behind only the slightest inclination that it was even there through the dim glow surrounding Erica's body.

Erica's eyes opened with sudden clarity.

"Rho Aias!"

Erica did not know that she had in-canted the shield's name, rather, the voice that spoke was not her own. For a fraction of a second, unseen by mortal eyes, the true god Aias had descended upon the earth, his gaze shining warmly upon those who would pray so earnestly for his protection. He would not allow them harm. His masked visage gazed upon the battlefield, and with an armoured hand, he poured his very divinity into what he could clearly see was his shield.

Once again, seven petals bloomed into existence, seven translucent petals the size of a fortress wall that were fueled by their very owner's divinity. Flecks of dust and gravel lifted into the air, drawing themselves around the petals and forming the conceptual image of Rho Aias in all its glory.

Verethragna's summoned lightning, did little more than scratch the seven walled fortress of a shield.

His work completed, Aias disappeared back into the netherworld after granting what little protection he could muster from such a prompt summoning, to Erica and Godou.

"Marvelous! Such a thing was possible wasn't it?" Verethragna said in awe. "But I digress, this won't be enough to stop me."

Verethragna made to lunge forward, his golden sword in hand, but suddenly paused as his gaze shifted to the far west.

"It's calm." Verethragna said. "Is their fight already over?"

No matter, either Melquart or the other god could have been defeated, he didn't really care, no; he just wanted a worthy adversary to pit himself against. Since neither has deigned to show up, Verethragna supposed it would be best to eliminate those in front of him, and so Verethragna continued his assault.

It was with such a purpose that Verethragna struck out and stabbed Rho Aias with his Golden sword.

"I-It's breaking." Godou stuttered out. "His golden sword is slicing though it like butter."

Erica gritted her teeth. Verethragna's golden sword proved troublesome indeed as it was bestowed with the power to cut through divinity itself.

"Cut through divinity?" Godou said.

Erica must have muttered her thoughts out loud, but now wasn't the time to care.

"Yes. That Golden sword is the sword that takes away the divinity of a god and renders him to a mere mortal." Erica said.

"Humans that seek to defeat me, entertain me further!" Verethragna yelled for all to hear.

Erica pulled at Godou's arm.

"Get away from here Godou!" Erica warned Godou in concern, guilty that she had dragged the innocent boy to his death.

Godou stared at Erica defiantly.

"I'm supposed to be protecting the grimoire. I can't run away without using it."

Erica's eyes widened.

"If a human like you uses it, your body will be destroyed and you'll die!"

"I'll die even if I don't use it!" Godou argued.

In the face of Godou's recklessness, Erica couldn't help but admire Godou's courage and smiled warmly at him.

"You are like Epimetheus." Erica stated.

"Epimetheus?" Godou inquired.

"Doesn't matter, just that he was a fool." Erica looked down at the ground. "Though I suppose I'm an even bigger fool."

"What do yo-"

Erica kissed Godou on the cheek.

"For good luck." Erica said.

Godou smiled, and went to face Verethragna without hesitation.

* * *

"The Netherworld? No, it can't be." Melquart muttered as he marveled at the scene before him. "A world of steel."

Swords, axes, spears, weapons of all sorts lined the distance, to the point that the castle atop the distant hill was rendered rudimentary. Its vast castle walls and mortars flagged with the Arthurian coat of arms were off-setted by the sheer number of holy and demonic blades that were tenuously stabbed along side the pole arms which held the flags afloat.

Despite the fact that Melquart knew better than to take his eyes off of his opponent, his eyes wandered around the world. At the dim sky illuminated by a setting sun, and briefly he recounted the tale of king Arthur. Of the the king's tragic end at the battle of Camlann, noticing just how eerily similar the landscape must have appeared. However, something far more important drew his attention.

"Hrunting, Vajra, Gae Bolg," Melquart listed at the back of his mind before he drew a blank. "Yagarish, Ayamari."

Briefly, Melquart peered down at his favoured twin clubs in his hands, and simultaneously glared daggers at the identical pair in front of him.

"What madness is this?" Melquart involuntarily grumbled.

"I too shared the same response when I first lay glimpse of this world." Arthur turned his teal eyes towards Melquart. "But different from you, I do not necessarily mind it. It is a world that any God of steel such as myself can not help but marvel at."

"And you are?" Melquart inquired.

"Arthur Pendragon, king of the castle and barren wasteland you see before you. Although it wasn't always like this, just that this current landscape is more suited for battle." Arthur said as he stood up from the great stone he was leaning against. "I have abstained from the world for too long, but not anymore. It would seem that my help is being requested."

Melquart turned his gaze towards Arthur, but no sooner than he had, his eyes drifted towards the sword stuck hilt deep within the stone behind Arthur. At the sword in which only the strongest should possess.

"Sorry Arthur, but I believed this was the only way to get through to you. Furthermore, I wouldn't have been able to beat Melquart in time to aid Godou and Erica by myself." Shirou said as he appeared beside Arthur, wreathed in similar Arthurian armour of blue and gold.

"No, it was me who was in the wrong." Arthur said as he materialized a helmet over his face. "Then lets get to it. Prepare yourself Melquart!"

Shirou grabbed hold of Durendal and brandished it forward.

"HAhahaha!" Melquart laughed. "You threw me off when you wielded Durendal, even more so when I noticed the vast majority of legendary weapons within this realm, but..." Melquarts eyes remained fixated on the sword in the stone. "That sword's radiance and divinity can only belong to one."

Melquart once again brandished Ayamari and Yagarish into the air, ready for battle.

"Come at me, god of the Strongest Steel! May your death go down in legend under Melquart's true name of Baal Hadad!"

* * *

Well there's the chapter. I cut it short since many people seem to like the new story I posted: Fate Stay cooking, and have requested I work on it, at least the first chapter.

I know everyone probably noticed, but I changed the unlimited blade works aria. Because the UBW is a manifestation of the soul, well, Shirou's soul isn't just his anymore so I figured I should make a few changes.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and tell me what you think if I should have Godou defeat Verethragna or Shirou, either way works for me.

Thanks for reading

\- Parcasious


	9. The Battle in Sardinia Part 1

(Verse in the bible)

And the Lord said to Moses, "Stretch out your hand over Egypt so that locusts swarm over the land and devour everything growing in the fields, everything left by the hail."

And so a swarm of locusts descended upon the world, their numbers immeasurable, their hunger insatiable. Upon a field of barren ruin, upon a field of a broken king, and of a broken kingdom, they blotted out the twilight sky of a world of infinite blades.

_Death loomed in the dim lit horizon_.

Melquart stood at the helm, for he ruled all flying insects, the most numerous and diverse creatures in the world. His form was taught, his massive arms at the ready; Yagarish poised to lash out with gale force winds against his adversaries. And yet further still was his presence growing. Lightning sparked from Ayamari, painting the very picture of a tempest of violent storm clouds. Nature was at Melquart's very beck and call.

Melquart's shadow stretched across the land.

But where there is a shadow, there will always be a light. Radiant pillars of power pierced through the heavens, their presence undeniable.

"For the light that guides me forward, my chivalry will pave a path to the radiance of a new dawn, for I am RIGHTEOUS!"

Arthur shot into the air on noble steed, his form blurring between the lines and manifesting into a fiery comet of fire.

Tails of iridescent starlight trailed from Arthur's wake, his sword in hand scorching all in its way.

"My core is twisted in madness, Caladbolg!"

Like the spear of Odin, like the tail light of a thrown Gae Bolg, the prototype blade of Excalibur ripped through the air. Space itself distorted, twisting along side Caldbolg's altered spiraled blade; the subsequent shockwaves, as it near instantly broke the sound barrier, sending tremours through the ground on which Shirou stood firmly.

Melquart, for a moment, didn't know what had hit him. At least not unil Caladbolg had detonated directly in front of him, forcing him to guard against the subseqeunt explosion. It hadn't made sense. For once, Meqluart was left unable to comprehend the significance of his deductions.

Feet now planted on the ground and arms blistered from Caladbolg's power, Melquart stared at Shirou in a new light. The battle had lulled to a stand still, Arthur watching the proceddings from the sky.

* * *

"Hahah, truly this is the power of the strongest!" Melquart said. "Never before have I witnessed such a marvel, steel within steel."

Melquart pulled out the shattered debris of Caladbolg from a deep wound on his forearm.

"To contain the ferocity of Cú Chulainn's demonic spear with the contradicting nature of the holiest sword within one blade," Melquart stared deeply at the piece of Caladbolg within his palm. "Is impossible; no, perhaps its because of the contradiction that such a grand explosion was possible."

Caladbolg, as the sword originally wielded by Fergus mac Róich in Celtic mythology, had strong ties to Welsh mythology, but at the same time held relevance to Cú Chulainn: Fergus mac Róich, as the foster father of Cú Chulainn, and Excalibur due to the theory that it is the same as Caledfwlch of Welsh mythology, making it a prototype. And although these speculations may prove sufficient, they still don't account for the alteration Shirou had cast on the blade.

"No matter," Melquart said briskly. "Now isn't the time for talk. For now we take up arms once again!"

Despite Melquart's large size, he moved with extreme agility, shooting past the numerous blades Shirou shot off into the air.

"I am steel! My body stronger than any other!" Shirou said as he withstood the impact of Yagarish on his body, the subsequent winds failing to knock him back due to his increased weight. "I am of the earth, a dragon of immense power!"

Strength pooled from the ground and up through Shirou's legs, the earth giving its blessing to the blood of dragons. Verdant scales traveled up to encompass Shirou's arms, encasing them in draconic steel. Furthermore, micro-blades stemmed through the armour, jagged, serated, and deadly.

Melquarts eyes widened.

"I am the Lord of Tyre! Owner of Herculean Strength!"

Melquart lashed out with a punch at the exact moment Shirou retaliated.

Fist met fist, with neither side gaining ground, and yet there stood another in the midst of the battlefield.

Arthur stared carefully at Melquart, looking for the slightest opening to exploit. Time was of the essence, the other two, Godou and Erica would not last long against the Persian war god. Which was all the more reason why Arthur steeled himself to utilize lethal force.

A sleek white lance appeared in Arthur's hand surrounded by orbiting spheres of fluorescent rock.

_Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto, moons of Jupiter._

"I am Artorius, I am Jupiter, the king of gods!" Arthur poised the lance forward, his eyes narrowing upon spying the break in Melquarts guard as the micro-blades on Shirou's arm pierced Melquart's flesh. "My charge will pierce the heavens, my thrust faster than lightning! None may be my equal, for I am faster than light itself!"

The orbiting spheres spun faster and faster, round and round until they collided to produce an immense throttle that propelled Arthur forward.

Descending towards the ground, Arthur capitalized on Melquart's moment of weakness. His form unable to be described as anything else but nonexistent, thus was the extent of his speed. In particular, was the fact that although space itself distorted to account for said speed, not once did Arthur lose sight of his target, but rather, he struck with unerring accuracy in much the same way as Odin's famed spear never missed its target.

Faced with imminent danger on both fronts, Melquart could do the only thing befitting of such a situation. He laughed, long and hard despite the lance that pierced through his chest which continued to drag him across the battlefield. He laughed despite the pain of numerous noble phantasms digging into his being as his body was dragged across the ground. It was...Unnerving to say the least. And yet what can one really expect from a Divine King-class Heretic God?

Melquart knew of pain, he relished the feeling in battle, for the pain inflicted on his person spoke wonders about his opponent. Inspite of everything however, it all melted down to his very being. By Melqart's true name of Baal Hadad. He was Baal, but he was also known as Beelzebub of the seven princes of Hell according to Catholic views. It was why he ruled all flying insects, it was why he knew greatly of pain. As a prince who ruled within Hell itself, he had heard the screams of the damned as they burned for eternity unable to die within the cess pool of a burning inferno.

Oh it was only a matter of time before he would show his adversaries why it was that they should fear the 'Lord of the Flies'.

* * *

Erica didn't know how much time had passed since Shirou and Melquart disappeared into the distant horizon, but she hoped that the five minute mark would soon arrive. She didn't know how much more she and Godou could take.

Initially, Erica had been getting by, by utilizing her leap magic to traverse the battle field and narrowly dodge the numerous bolts of lightning aimed her way, but even that had its limits. Specifically when one compared the magical reserves of mortals to a god's. She wasn't disillusioned, it was because of Godou that she was still alive at the moment. The fool had managed to steal the incarnation of the bull from Verethragna using the tome of Prometheus. At this point, she didn't really care if Godou was a civilian or not, he fought just as well if not better than most magicians she had the liberty to work with. However, if there was one thing she knew for certain, she had placed her trust in him.

"Godou! To your left!" Erica yelled.

A bolt of lightning had descended from the tips of Verethragna's fingers and homed in on Godou.

After years of honing his senses in baseball, a game where even the slightest mistake can lead to a heavy injury, Godou could accurately claim to read his opponents intentions and develop tactics to win against them. This was no different from what he did a moment prior to the lightning bolt striking his location. He stomped down hard on the ground. Although such an act can be considered rudimentary at best, rudimentary means nothing in the face of herculean strength granted by the incarnation of the bull.

The earth trembled before a large slab of said earth rose up to intercept the bolt of lightning from Verethragna. With the enregy of the bolt dispersed, Godou picked up the slab and threw it at Verethragna who merely back handed it away.

"Impressive." Verethragna complimented. "But how will you deal with this?"

Verethragna rose into the air, his white silk robe fluttering with the wind. When at last he stopped amissed the clouds, he peered down at the mortals below him and raised an arm above his head. No sooner than he had, a vortex of wind funneled around him and tore a rift through the sky.

"Thus speaketh Lord Mithra." Verethragna narrowed his eyes on Godou alone. "The sinful shall be met with justice."

Movement was seen from within the rift, piercing red eyes bearing down upon the world within the compounds of a vivid violet ether.

"May spines be crushed,"

A flaming hooved appendage stepped out from the ether.

"May bones be broken,"

An unearthly roar tore the clouds in two.

"Tendons torn; hair, brains, and blood mingled and trampled together with the earth!"

Verethragna's divine boar made itself known to the world, stepping fully into existence.

"The one unblunted and unapproachable! Oath breaking sinners be purged by the iron hammer of justice!"

Time itself seemed to stop as Verethragna swiped his arm down and signaled the charge of the mighty divine boar. Heedless of Verethragna's command, the boar would have charged anyway, but fueled with its masters intentions, its downward descent doubled.

Large embers were left behind in the boar's wake, many having drifted to the ground and set ablaze wild grass and shrubs.

In the face of his looming adversary, Godou held his ground and resolved himself to the inevitable. And yet fate works in mysterious ways. In much the same way as the unpredictability of a god's whims, fate seemed to be on Godou's side. Spell words of power filtered through his brain without frying it from the inside out due to the divinity granted by said words.

"As the one who holds all victory in my hands," A golden aura sprouted from Godou's feet and encompassed him like a flickering candle flame.

"I am the strongest. Man and devil—all enemies, all who harbor enmity will be vanquished."

Godou's eyes narrowed with purpose as he shot his arms out to intercept the boar.

Pointed tusks met callused hands.

"Hence I shall smash through all enemies in my way!"

The strength of the bull shot up dramatically; the ground splintered under the sheer force of the confrontation. With a mighty heft, Godou spun the Boar full circle and tossed it straight back to Verethragna, its speed doubling further as the momentum of the original charge enhanced the kinetic energy acting on the boar.

Eyes widening in astonishment, Verethragna took the attack head on.

Ichor, the life blood of the gods, fell in droplets towards the earth. Such a feat would have been considered absurd had it not been for the damning evidence for all to see.

A broken fragment of the boar's massive pointed tusks was stabbed deeply through Verethragna's chest.

"...This," Verethragna began before he coughed and spat out the blood in his mouth. "Wasn't what I was expecting."

Nimbly, Verethragna placed his hands along the Boar's tusk and swiftly pulled it out of his body, letting the tusk fade back into the ether and a copious amount of his blood to spill.

A smile tugged along Verethragna's face.

"HEheHAhah!" Verethragna laughed, not caring how wretched his appearance made him seem. Be that as it may something had changed within Verethragna, perhaps his disposition or posture of arrogance, one could never really tell. However, thinly veiled within Verethragna's eyes, there was no longer any curiosity, nor admiration, only the beginings of a fierce blood lust.

"I am a companion of Mithra, I am the being described as 'the most highly armed' and 'the best equipped with might.'" Verethragna sent a withering glance at Godou and sidewards glance at Erica.

Illogical fear crept up the backs of both Godou and Erica, who for the most part was being ignored in favour of Godou. Thankfully that fact had saved Erica's life, no matter how self deprecated it made her feel.

"With effervescent glory and conquering superiority, I have fought countless battles against the most wicked of men and demons." Verethragna voice grew deeper, harsher, more straight to the point. This was no longer the care-free god Godou and Erica had fought moments prior, this was the true persona of the Persian god of legend.

"My name, is Verethragna the Persian God of War! Within my hands lay the means to all Victory! Force, subjugation, bribery, it matters not; I know them all despite never stooping myself so low to resort to such means. Charisma to move the thousands, leadership to succeed where others could not, I possess them all!" Verethragna's fom shone bright, and no sooner did all his injuries disappear. "O Worthy warrior who hath standeth here before me, state thy name so we may re-enact a battle of legend!"

Godou gulped, yet still stood strong.

"My name is Godou Kusanagi!" Godou all but shouted to the heavens. "And I, I will stop you!"

"Your courage beckons me forward and I will not resist." Verethragna said.

Landing on the ground, Verethragna traced a hand over the blood that had stained his white robe a deep crimson before smiling viciously at Godou.

"Every sinner shall tremble before my power. Now is the time, that I obtain the toughness of ten mountains, the strength of a hundred rivers, and the power of a thousand camels! Upon my mighty self, I shall bear the symbol of the raging camel!" Divine energy erupted from around Verethragna. "Godou Kusanagi, prepare thyself for battle, for if not..."

Godou face contorted in shock.

"Thou shalt die." Verethragna said from directly in front of Godou.

* * *

As disappointed as I am to say this, I fear that I must. School is starting again...

That's not actually a bad thing, but what it does mean is that my story chapters are gonna have to be shorter in order to compensate for school, that or fairly long update times for a long chapter. You can let me know which you prefer if you like.

This chapter was short since I found it inconvenient to be typing on my phone all the way from my vacation at Victoria. Typing on a computer is so much better. This chapter was also meant to start off the mood of the fights.

Feel free to let me know if you liked this chapter, constructive criticism is always welcome.

The next few chapter will decide the outcome of the fight since I couldn't possible end a fight between gods and would-be campiones in less than 3 thousands words.

Update List:Priority by update date.

1: A hollow Feeling

2: A Warrior's Pride

3: Fate Stay Cooking

4: Magus Among Ninjas

5: Birth of a Legend

List may change depending on what I feel like writing at the time, but this is the overall plan.

Thanks for reading.

-Parcasious


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